Ties That Bind (Patchwork Soldier Saga 2)
by WordWeaver81
Summary: Sequel to Kintsugi. Bucky has finally built himself a life - friends, love, honest work. Life teaches hard lessons sometimes. The more you have, the more you can lose. Humor, drama, romance, angst. A slice of superhero life.
1. Old Ghosts and New Beginnings

**Disclaimer: This is Marvel's universe. I'm just borrowing some of the characters. Just for fun, not for profit.**

 **Author's Note: This is a sequel. Nyssa first appeared in Kintsugi.**

* * *

 **Old Ghosts and New Beginnings**

The verdant, scenic hills of Connecticut rolled by outside the car windows as Bucky drove down the road. Beside him, in the passenger seat, Nyssa sat with her hands clasped in her lap, her face turned towards the window even though he knew she couldn't see any of the landscape they were passing. She fidgeted with the ring on her left hand.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked, fully prepared to turn the car around and drive another two and a half hours back to New York if her answer was no. She nodded resolutely.

"I just need to see it, so I can either decide if it's as perfect as I remember it or cross it off the list entirely. I used to dream of getting married there, when I was a little girl. But maybe it isn't what I remember. It's been a long time." Nyssa pulled her legs up and crossed them in the seat, running a hand distractedly through her hair.

"How long?" Bucky asked. Nyssa sighed.

"Twenty-three years. The last time I was there, I buried my mother." She spun the ring on her finger around, lapsing into silence. Bucky contemplated the road ahead of them and let her gather her thoughts. She sighed and laid her head back against the seat. "Maybe if I'd known they turned it into a museum, I'd have gone back before this."

"I am kinda excited to see where you grew up," Bucky admitted with a teasing smile. Nyssa snorted.

"Well, maybe after we're done with the tour, I can show you my parents' house in town. This was my grandmother's estate," she reminded him. "I spent a lot of time there, but it wasn't the same as home." She lapsed into silence again for a moment or two, then huffed softly in laughter. "She hated that, you know."

"Who did?" Bucky asked, unsure where her train of thought had gone.

"Grandmother. She hated the fact that we lived in town. She wanted all of us to stay with her in the big house, like her family did all her life. I think that was part of the reason she didn't like my mom. Grandmother accused her of tearing the family apart. My mom convinced my dad to move away from the house he grew up in so that they could make a home together. Mom thought the estate was excessive and pretentious." Bucky's eyebrows rose.

"Was it?" he inquired. Nyssa giggled.

"I'll let you be the judge of that," she decided, settling back in the seat, her hands finally stilling in her lap.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, the GPS instructed him to turn onto what appeared to be a long, unmarked road. After a couple minutes of driving along the tree-lined boulevard, Bucky realized this was the driveway to the Monterose Estate. His eyes widened as the main building came into view. It was a sprawling, three-story brick Victorian-style mansion ringed with fruit trees and manicured paths. A round, cobblestone parking area wound around a magnificent fountain before the arching staircase that led up to a massive pair of double doors. On each step, a bronze sculpture stood guard in the corner. He whistled lowly.

"Holy shit," he breathed. Nyssa chuckled.

"I told you my grandmother was wealthy," she reminded him. He shook his head.

"There's wealthy, and then there's…" He gestured helplessly at the opulence around them.

"Rolling in it? Filthy stinking loaded? A poster child for conspicuous consumption?" Nyssa suggested breezily. "I know. She bought me a pony for my first birthday, before I could even walk, then decided it didn't go with the dress I was wearing, so she bought me another one." Bucky let out a huff of disbelieving laughter.

"Technically, isn't all of this yours?" he asked. Nyssa shook her head.

"No, it would have belonged to Vanessa Monterose. But legally, she's dead." She smiled out the window. "I wouldn't want to live here, anyway. You wouldn't believe the ghosts that haunt the place. Besides, for all her wealth, my grandmother was never truly happy." She directed her smile at Bucky. "I'd rather live in a tiny apartment with you than here, even with all its… opulence and grandeur."

"I don't know that I'd call Avengers Tower a tiny apartment," he snorted, and got out of the car. Coming around to her side, he opened her door and helped her out, then circled around to the back and got Darshan out of his travel crate. The dog quickly assumed his customary position on Nyssa's left, and she grabbed onto his harness.

"I'm not saying it is," Nyssa pointed out. "I'm just saying… home is where the heart is."

"So, you wouldn't want to live with me here?" he teased. Her hand slipped into his and squeezed affectionately.

"If you were here, then maybe I could find a way to tolerate it," she teased back as the three of them made their way up the staircase.

* * *

After passing through the doors, it became more obvious that the building was a museum. The grand foyer was filled with displays recounting the history and tragedies of the Monterose family, and several areas were cordoned off with velvet ropes. A portrait on the wall caught Bucky's attention, and he paused as he recognized Nyssa. She was very young in the picture, maybe twelve, but it was unmistakably her. A large plaque next to the portrait recounted the sad story of Vanessa Monterose, including the takedown of the human traffickers that had targeted her but ending with her untimely death.

"You can look around here if you like," Nyssa said in his ear, dropping his hand. "I'm going to see if I can find the office. Ruth said there are a couple places where we could have the ceremony." Bucky nodded, turning his attention to the next display. This portrait was of a man with dark hair, handsome features and the same hazel eyes that seemed to see everything. A much smaller portrait was hanging next to his, of the same man with a woman with dirty blonde hair and a very familiar expression on her face. The story beside these pictures differed a little from what Nyssa had told him. They told of a man so attached to his mother that, after she passed, he became depressed and eventually ended his own life. Nyssa's mother was barely mentioned at all. Whoever wrote these histories must have been close friends with the Grandmother. He moved on to the next portrait, and almost gasped. The woman in the massive portrait was strikingly beautiful, but cold, her eyes peering down in judgement. The plaque beside her outlined a ruthless and successful business career in an era that did not believe women had any place in such an occupation. He immediately felt as if she saw all of his secrets and disapproved. Taking a couple large steps back, he shivered, then decided to go back to the picture of Vanessa Monterose. Beneath the portrait, there were a few items arranged on a lowboy; little trinkets that must have belonged to her. He suppressed the urge to pocket them to show her later.

"Tragic, isn't it?" Bucky jumped at the voice right beside him. Taking a step to the side, he looked over to see an older man, his hair more salt than pepper, staring at the portrait with grief and guilt lined on his face. His eyes carried the familiar glint of someone who had seen too much.

"Very sad," Bucky agreed, preparing to go find Nyssa and leave this man with his grief. But the man kept talking.

"I was a US Marshall for forty-two years, and this is the case that still haunts me," he said sadly. Bucky's eyes widened, and he glanced down to see a nametag on the man's shirt that said "Elijah."

"You... you knew her?" he asked carefully. Elijah nodded.

"It was my job to protect her, after she had already been through shit that nobody should ever have to go through. The stuff that came out in the trial…" He shook his head. "Gut-wrenching. Even for the seasoned officers. And then she lost both parents to boot. A really confused, traumatized kid, but still very sweet. Very smart, too. She could have made a difference in the world. And I… I failed her." He gazed at the portrait for awhile longer, then seemed to shake himself from his reverie. "Are you here for the tour? I'm supposed to be giving tours, but, ah…" he gestured to the nearly-empty hall. "Not too many here for that today."

"Ah, actually, I'm here with my… fiancée," Bucky replied. The title still felt strange and new on his lips, and his heart skipped strangely every time he used it. "She wanted to see about maybe getting married on the grounds." Elijah nodded sagely.

"We get those occasionally. The East Garden and Wisteria Hollow are the most popular." He glanced around. "So where is the lovely lady?" he inquired. A gasp and spike of panic drew Bucky's attention to the next room. Nyssa had seen who he was talking to. He smiled at Elijah.

"I will go find out," he promised. He didn't have to go very far. Nyssa had pressed herself into the corner of the next room, eyes wide and face pale. Darshan was pushing his nose into her hand and whining, licking her fingers and trying to calm her down.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked, although he had a suspicion he already knew.

"That man you were talking to," she whispered. "Do you know who he is?"

"His nametag said Elijah. He said he gives tours here." Both true statements, even though it wasn't actually what she was asking. She drew in a shaky breath.

"Maybe we should go," she suggested.

"We could," Bucky agreed. He stepped closer and clasped her shoulders. "Or you could go out there and let him know that he didn't fail, and you didn't die." She started shaking her head before he even finished the sentence.

"I, I… I couldn't. I can't," she stammered.

"Hey," he chided softly, cupping a hand under her chin. "The Nyssa I know can coordinate her own rescue while chained up, orchestrate a resistance movement behind the scenes, and make people believe in themselves again when they feel that all hope is lost. You can go say hi to an old friend."

"It gets a little more complicated when the old friend believes that you're dead," Nyssa bit out, her face pinched.

Bucky persisted. "Didn't you say this was one of your greatest regrets? And now you have a chance to set the record straight."

"I can't put his life in danger," Nyssa protested.

"That was true all those years ago," Bucky agreed. "But you're not hiding anymore. I know. Steve knows. Sharon knows. Nobody's come after Vanessa since you told us, and it's almost been five years." He bent down to briefly press his lips to hers. She seemed to relax marginally. "Look, if you really want to leave, we can. We'll go back to New York, cross this place off our list. But are you sure you want to let this opportunity go?" She looked down, and he could feel her panic and shame shift as she contemplated his words. He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "I mean, the guy is giving tours of your grandmother's house. I think it's safe to say he hasn't moved past it." She closed her eyes and drew in a shaky breath, and he saw a tear trickle down her cheek. He shouldn't push too much more. "Whatever you decide, I'm here," he assured her. She pressed her face into his shirt, and he felt the dampness against his chest as her tears soaked through. She took a step back, wiped her eyes, swallowed hard and nodded.

"I guess we should at least take the tour," she said, her voice still somewhat strained, and the smile she flashed him wasn't nearly as convincing as usual. He clasped her right hand in his and pressed an encouraging kiss on her knuckles before leading her back into the main hall. Elijah was still wandering around from portrait to portrait. Bucky approached him, Nyssa following slightly behind, hesitation in her steps but her hand still in his resolutely.

"Elijah, wasn't it?" Bucky asked as he came up behind the man. Elijah turned to face them. "I'd like you to meet my fiancée, Nyssa." A wide smile spread across Elijah's face, and he proffered his hand to Nyssa. Bucky caught the confused wrinkle that creased between his eyebrows then smoothed away, the furtive glance from Nyssa to the portrait of Vanessa and back again. But his smile was genuine as he took Nyssa's hand and shook it.

"Very pleased to meet you, miss," he said. "I can see already that he is a very lucky man." Nyssa smiled and nodded, not trusting her voice just yet. There had been a glint of recognition, but he had pushed it aside, reasoning that it simply could not be. "Well, shall we start the tour, then?" he asked. Nyssa nodded. With a sweeping gesture, he began his speech as he told the story of the Monterose family. Bucky listened earnestly. It was fascinating to learn all about Nyssa's family and the world she had grown up in, before tragedy struck. For her part, Nyssa mostly seemed distracted. Outwardly, she appeared to be listening attentively, but Darshan kept looking around, sniffing here and there. Since he was normally very still and focused when he was in work mode, Bucky had to infer that Nyssa was using him to find out every detail of this ostentatious place she had spent so much of her childhood in. He gave her hand a warning squeeze, and Darshan settled down. He felt the now-familiar sensation in his head that told him she was sharing his vision, which passed as she settled into the tour.

Elijah took them through the library, the formal dining hall, the parlor, three sitting rooms, a study and an office (which apparently were two different things) and a reception hall with a ballroom. There was a music room with a grand piano, a harp and an entire wall full of various instruments. Many of the rooms were roped off, or at least had sections that were off limits. They wandered through a kitchen suite that included a walk-in pantry, canning room, larder, and peeked at a dark staircase that lead down to the wine cellar and root cellar. They swung through the butler's pantry and then hiked up a winding staircase to the next level, where Elijah ushered them by the sleeping chambers. Madeline Monterose's room was of course the largest, with an adjoining dressing room. Philip Monterose's rooms were only slightly smaller, and just as richly appointed. Two doors down from his was a room straight out of a little girl's dream, with a canopy bed, a five-foot-tall dollhouse, an indoor swing, and an entire wall of built-in bookshelves. Vanessa's room. This room was cordoned off, allowing only a glance around at the toys and books before Elijah whisked them off to show them the next suite, which was an elegant guest suite. Bucky soon realized that Nyssa had disappeared. He wandered back down the hall and found her in Vanessa's room, the velvet barrier still up but completely ignored. Darshan was sitting on the carpet just on the other side of the rope, watching his mistress intently.

"Ma'am, I'm sorry, but you can't be in there," Elijah protested as he came up behind Bucky and peered over his shoulder. "That's off-limits…" His voice trailed off as Nyssa ran her hand over the gorgeous sateen comforter.

"She only brought these out for very special occasions and celebrations," she commented softly. "I don't think I slept in them more than five or six times." She crossed the room to the dollhouse, her fingers finding the latch and swinging it open. "I begged for this doll house when I was nine. She surprised me with it for my thirteenth birthday. Unfortunately, by then my interests had shifted to other things. I should have been more grateful. I didn't know it was the last gift she would give me before she died." She shook her head slightly. "Everything here is exactly as I left it. Nothing's even been moved." She crossed the room to the built-in bookcase, her fingers skimming along the intricate carvings along the base and edges. She pressed in the center of a rosette, and an audible click filled the stunned silence as Elijah and Bucky looked on. A crack appeared in the paneling below the shelves, and Nyssa easily swung it aside, revealing a hidden compartment within. She pulled out a little wooden box, inlaid with wood carvings and mother of pearl. "Even my treasure box is still here." She walked back over to where Elijah and Bucky were watching, the wooden box clasped in her hands. For the first time, she directed her words directly to Elijah. "There is a very simple reason why I look like Vanessa Monterose," she informed him. "I am Vanessa Monterose." Elijah had gone pale, staring at her in disbelief. Slowly, he shook his head.

"It's not possible," he whispered. "She died. In my arms. I watched her die." Nyssa shook her head sadly, tears glistening in her eyes.

"You saw what I wanted you to see," she explained. "I had to let you believe it was real."

"Why?" The word was both plea and accusation. Nyssa gestured helplessly.

"I thought I was protecting you. If Vanessa was dead, there would be no more assassination attempts. You could go back to your life. No more assassins. I thought it was the right decision at the time." She gestured again, shaking her head. "It was a mistake. One of the biggest mistakes of my life, and you know I've made some big ones. I am so sorry for all the years of pain that I caused you. I should have let you in on it." There were tears standing in Elijah's eyes. He stood absolutely still for a long moment, Nyssa standing contritely before him, head bowed. Taking in a long breath, he reached out and wrapped his arms around her.

"My God, you're alive. You're alive," he breathed, swaying slightly. "I can't even…" He pushed back from her, his eyes tracing her features, looking her up and down as if trying to convince himself she was real. He shook his head again in relieved disbelief. "You look amazing. And you're engaged… Plus, you have a service dog?" He eyed Darshan in his official harness.

"A lot has happened," Nyssa admitted. "It'll take some time to get you caught up."

"I'm in no hurry," Elijah said easily. The sound of people coming in downstairs made him remember where he was and what he was supposed to be doing. "Did you, ah… want to finish the tour?" he asked. Nyssa frowned.

"What's supposed to be next?" she asked. Elijah looked uneasy.

"The Blue Study," he admitted. Nyssa's features tightened.

"We can skip that part," she said tersely. "I was hoping to look more at the grounds, show Bucky the gardens. Ruth said the date we were looking at is available." Elijah nodded slowly.

"Sure, we can look at the grounds," he said, turning to lead the way. Nyssa fell into step beside him. She almost seemed like she was a little taller as she walked beside him on their way out of the mansion.

"So, what have you been up to?" she asked curiously. "I thought I read somewhere that you got married…" Elijah sighed heavily.

"I was," he acknowledged. "I'm a widower now."

"I'm very sorry," Nyssa intoned sincerely. He shrugged.

"It is what it is. We never had any children, and I was retired, so… I ended up here. Felt like I had unfinished business. Guess I was right." He glanced at her with a half-smile. "What name was it you're going by now? Nessa?"

"Nyssa," she corrected softly, slightly emphasizing the different vowel sound. "My legal name is… Dr. Nyssa Taylor." His eyes widened slightly at the familiar last name, then more as the full name registered.

"I know that name. New York… One of the Avengers? Patchwork Doll? Is that you?" He narrowed his eyes as more pieces clicked into place and focused on Bucky. "So then you must be…"

"Bucky Barnes, at your service," Bucky replied with a slight bow.

"The new Captain America," Elijah concluded as they reached the Grand Foyer once again. Bucky nodded. Elijah blinked, shook his head and let out a loud huff of air. "So, the dog?" he asked after a moment. "If you're a superhero, do you really need a service dog?"

"Well, technically, my eyes don't work," Nyssa admitted. Elijah looked at her sharply.

"How's that? You've made eye contact with me several times," he pointed out. Nyssa grinned sheepishly.

"Most of what I do is reading and manipulating energy. Thoughts, feelings, emotions, intentions, that sort of thing. People tend to have a shift in energy when you make eye contact, so… I've gotten good at faking it," she admitted. Elijah shook his head again and opened a side door to lead them outside.

"Okay, so where were you thinking?" he asked, his manner becoming more businesslike. "I was mentioning to him that the most popular sites for events are the East Garden and Wisteria…" He trailed off as Nyssa was already shaking her head.

"I was thinking more the North Woods," she said shyly. Elijah raised his eyebrows.

"They aren't nearly as groomed," he protested. "I don't think anyone's been up there in years." Nyssa shrugged.

"Then they'll still have their natural beauty," she pointed out. "Is the gazebo still intact?" Elijah shrugged.

"I guess we'll find out."

Nyssa brightened as they approached the stable, and broke into a jog, Darshan trotting by her side. Bucky hung back and kept pace with Elijah.

"Back in the house," he said quietly, "you mentioned the Blue Study. Why didn't she want to go there?" Elijah looked grim.

"That's where her father killed himself," he explained.

"Ah." Bucky wasn't sure what else to say to that, but his mind immediately went back to their conversation upon arrival, and the comment Nyssa made about ghosts. "That's terrible. People actually want to see something like that?"

"Well, it's not like they left all the blood spatter on the walls. It's been cleaned up. Just looks like a regular study now. It's only interesting because of the history, but yes, it's usually one of the highlights of the tour. People are interested in all kinds of morbid things." Both of them fell silent as they drew near the stable, where Nyssa was stroking the nose of a horse whose head hung over the stall door.

"I'm amazed there are still horses here," she remarked. "I can't imagine they are usually part of the tour."

"No," Elijah agreed. "But the groundskeeper likes to keep them so he can use them to travel the property more quickly. Sixty-two acres is a lot of ground to cover." Bucky's eyebrows rose.

"No doubt," he agreed. The sheer grandeur of the place still astounded him. They walked through the magnificent East Garden and the breathtaking Wisteria Hollow, where the trees hung over the path with colorful garlands of purple and white, through a winding hedge maze, and down a walking path to a towering forest of trees. Elm and oak, maple and birch wove their branches together overhead, making leafy lace against the sky. Nyssa outpaced both of them, trotting on eager feet as she wove her way through the woods, a nymph gliding through the trees with Darshan at her side.

"I actually have no idea where we're going," Elijah confessed in a murmur to Bucky. "I haven't been out here before. So I guess we're… following the blind woman?" Bucky chuckled.

"I spend a fair amount of time doing that," he conceded.

"Oh, really?" Elijah teased back. "Isn't Captain America supposed to be the leader?"

"Technically, I am," Bucky admitted. "But somehow, she usually seems to get her way. She does have good ideas. And she can be very persuasive." Elijah laughed.

"That hasn't changed, then," he observed. His expression grew more serious, and he regarded Bucky with an appraising look. "You'll treat her right, won't you? Because she deserves someone who will." Bucky nodded slowly.

"I'll do my best, sir." He watched her stop to pick a wildflower. "She probably deserves better, but I'll never stop trying to be worthy of her."

The trees around them thinned out, then gave way to a glade. At the far end, a small gazebo stood between two birch trees. A little creek ran by behind it. Despite the obvious signs of neglect and disrepair, it was still beautiful. With a little cry of delight, Nyssa ran over to it. She was still standing in the middle with her face alight when Elijah and Bucky caught up. The wildflower she had picked was now tucked behind her ear.

"It is still here," she said triumphantly.

"It'll need some work to be presentable," Elijah opined, eyeing the cracked and peeling paint, the broken boards around the perimeter, the pieces missing from the gingerbread trim. Bucky stepped up the three stairs into the aging gazebo, his attention drawn upwards to the intricate scrollwork set underneath the roof. He paused as something crunched underfoot, taking his weight off that foot. Bending down, he picked up a pair of dolls that were filthy and weatherworn. One was wearing a lacy, long ball gown that might have been white a long time ago. The other was done up in a dirty tuxedo, complete with a top hat, the brim snapped in half thanks to Bucky's boot.

"We can put in a little work," he said decisively. "It'll be worth it." Nyssa turned towards him with a grin.

"So you like it?" she said excitedly.

"I think it's perfect," he assured her. With a teasing smile, he held the dolls up. "Are these yours?" She frowned. He pressed them into her free hand. Her eyes widened as she realized what they were, and her cheeks turned bright pink.

"Well, I did tell you I used to dream of getting married here," she said bashfully. "And the rates are actually pretty reasonable, all things considered."

"Rates… reasonable?" Elijah spluttered. "By rights, this whole place should be yours. There shouldn't be a fee for you to get married on your own property."

"Maybe that's true," Nyssa conceded, "but that's part of what I gave up." Elijah shook his head.

"Still as stubborn as ever, I see," he grumbled. Nyssa nodded.

"True. But I wouldn't be nearly as successful if I wasn't," she pointed out. Elijah snorted, but didn't argue. Darshan sniffed around the wooden supports, taking in the recent history of the location. Nyssa took another step towards her former mentor and protector. "Elijah, I know that this is all very sudden, and I understand if you aren't interested, but… you are the closest thing to a father that I have still living. Do you think… you could walk me down the aisle?" Elijah looked stunned and didn't answer for a minute. Nyssa shifted her long-abandoned dolls to her other hand. "You don't have to answer right away. Just think about it, and…"

"I'd be honored, darlin'," he interrupted, drawing her into a hug for a second time that day.

* * *

About an hour later, they were climbing back into the car to head back to New York. Bucky put the key in the ignition, then paused, glancing sideways at Nyssa.

"Hey, I'm sorry if I was too pushy about you telling him who you really are," he said quietly. "He just seemed so… lost. And I don't blame him. I can't imagine watching you die, knowing it was because I didn't keep you safe…" He stopped, the rush of emotion closing off his throat. It had been close enough when she had been taken in Wakanda, and he hadn't been able to stop it. She hadn't died, but neither had she made it out unscathed. She reached over, covering his hand with hers.

"You don't need to apologize," she said. "That push was just what I needed. I feel like I put down a great weight that I didn't even know I was carrying." She shifted in her seat, stretching to plant a kiss on his cheek. "I love you. Let's go home."


	2. Lucky

**Disclaimer: Just for fun, not for profit. This is Marvel's universe. Some of the characters are original.**

* * *

 **Lucky**

The weather was crisp and cool the next time Bucky saw the forest. The glen had been transformed. The gazebo had been repaired and repainted, looking almost new in pristine white. It had been decorated with tiny white lights and floral flourishes, as had the trees along the edge of the clearing. The trees had traded in their shades of green for vibrant crimson, yellow and burgundy. Some of the leaves were scattered over the red fabric that ran between the chairs set up on either side. Tents were erected along the edges - staging areas for the wedding parties, and places for music and refreshments after the ceremony. He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath as he drank it all in. Beside him, Steve clapped him on the shoulder.

"Looks great, Buck," he said with a grin. "We should go get ready." Bucky nodded.

"I just have to get one more thing," he said, gesturing towards the tent set up for the bridal party. Steve raised an eyebrow.

"I don't think you're supposed to…"

"I forgot something, okay?" Bucky realized his tone was a little harsher than he intended. He must be more nervous than he thought. Steve held his hands up.

"Okay, Buck. I'll go make sure everyone's getting ready. See you in a minute." He vanished into the groom's tent. Bucky took a deep breath, then ventured over to the bride's tent. He had barely stuck his head inside when a pair of hands shoved his shoulders backward.

"Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah. Where do you think you're going?" Seraphina's eyes flashed indignantly at him. She was already dressed, wearing a leaf green dress that accentuated her eyes. "It's bad luck to see the bride before the ceremony."

"She was supposed to bring my cufflinks," he protested. Seraphina sighed and rolled her eyes at him.

"Fine. Wait here." She ducked back into the tent, making sure the opening closed completely behind her. A minute later, she reappeared and pressed a little box into his hand. "Here you go, Jimmy." He closed his fingers around the box.

"My name is Bucky," he reminded her. He wasn't sure why he still bothered to correct her. She knew damn well what his name was. He just couldn't figure out why she insisted on calling him Jimmy. Her eyes twinkled at him.

"I'll see you later, Jimmy," she said, gesturing meaningfully towards the groom's tent and making shooing motions. With a sigh and a shake of his head, he headed in that direction.

"Hey, there he is," Sam's cheerful baritone greeted him as he ducked into the tent. "For a minute there, I thought you were going to be late to your own wedding."

"Are you kidding? She'd kill me," Bucky shot back, shrugging out of his jacket and shirt as he moved over to the corner of the tent set up with his tuxedo.

"Nah, she's a very understanding and forgiving woman," Sam contradicted him. "Which is good, since she's marrying you."

"Hey, would you lay off?" Steve interjected from his corner, where he was straightening his tie. "This is his wedding day."

"Fine, fine." Sam sighed as if it were a great burden for him to be civil. "Hey, man, congratulations. I'm really happy for you." Bucky eyed him as if waiting for the sarcastic quip to follow, but Sam held his hands up. "No, really. I wish you guys all the best."

"See, now, was that hard?" Steve asked pointedly. Sam rolled his eyes at him.

"Excruciating," he retorted. "Just like this penguin outfit." He shifted his burgandy waistcoat uncomfortably.

"Oh, relax, Flyboy. These aren't nearly as uncomfortable as they could be." Tony was already dressed in his tuxedo and seated at the folding table, his feet up and ankles crossed, Italian leather oxfords nearly in the basket of cookies, fruit and other goodies that Felsma had left for them. "These cherry chocolate chip cookies, on the other hand, are amazing." He proffered one to Bucky. "Want to try one?"

"Thanks, Tony, but I'm not really hungry," he grunted as he pulled his pants on and shrugged into his shirt. "How are Pepper and the baby?" He didn't care too much for being the center of attention, but Tony usually had no such reservations.

"Great, they're both great," Tony said with enthusiasm. "Little Aaron is… mostly sleeping through the night. I think. Pepper says different, but I don't hear anything." He shrugged. "They might even make an appearance tonight. She'll probably leave before it gets too late, though." Steve's face brightened.

"Will this be their first outing?" he asked. Tony nodded.

"First time in four months, aside from some walks to the park," he said glibly. "So, first major outing, I guess."

"Sorry to take you away from them," Bucky said apologetically. Tony's smile broadened.

"Are you kidding? You got me out of half a day of diaper duty. Emphasis on the doody." He wrinkled his nose. "Admittedly, I'm doing this more for her than for you, but…" He made a dismissive gesture. "Congratulations, Barnes. You found a good woman to finally make an honest man out of you. Why she picked you is still a little baffling, but I guess… heart works in mysterious ways and all that, right?" Bucky's mouth twitched at the lefthanded compliment.

"Right. Thanks, Tony. Do you think Pepper would want to weigh in on that particular sentiment?" Tony snorted.

"Hey, she knew what she was getting into with me. It's not like I pretended otherwise." He shrugged. "But we worked it out." Things had been undeniably tense between Tony and Bucky at first, when Steve had stepped down and Bucky had assumed the shield and mantle of Captain America. While Tony hadn't directly tried to kill him again, it had been a couple months before he would address him directly, and there had been a handful of situations on missions that he hadn't been completely sure that Iron Man was playing for the same team. But eventually, he thawed. He finally seemed to see someone other than his parents' murderer when he looked at Bucky. It helped, in a way, that more details had surfaced about Bucky's treatment while he was a prisoner of Hydra. And that a judge had found him to be, if not innocent, not responsible for the crimes he had committed while under Hydra's control. It helped even more that Bucky had saved his teammates several times over, proving to himself as much as to everyone else that he was one of the good guys.

"What time is it?" Scott asked, his voice bringing Bucky back to the present.

"T minus forty-five minutes," Sam volunteered, glancing at his watch. "Forty-five minutes to change your mind," he added flippantly to Bucky, who snorted.

"Not in a million years," he declared, shaking his head as he shrugged into the tuxedo jacket. He was most comfortable in all black, and most of his attire reflected this, save for the cream-colored jacket with gold trim. He wasn't certain how much it suited him, but Nyssa had been somewhat insistent, and it was a small thing to give for her happiness.

"Hope you both still feel that way in a few years," Scott said glumly. "Not find yourself fighting all the time, then you land in prison, and she tells you she's done and can't handle it anymore, and by the way she's been boinking the yoga instructor." He blinked and seemed to catch himself. "Not that I'm saying it will happen with you guys. I mean… you're a great couple. I'm sure you'll be one of the lucky ones." He cleared his throat nervously and got up to pace over to one of the windows of the tent. "Looks like the guests are starting to arrive."

* * *

" _Dios Mio_ , look at the crowd," Micaela said as she moved the hanging cloth to peek out the window. "You've got some important friends, Nyssa."

"The most important ones are right here in this tent with me," Nyssa replied with a smile.

"Stay still, unless you want to look like Rocket," Natasha said reprovingly, holding the liquid eyeliner a safe distance from Nyssa's face.

"Sorry." Nyssa stilled her face and turned it back towards the Russian woman.

"Seriously, though." Micaela continued. "I just saw the police chief and the Mayor of New York in the space of like, ten seconds. There's Thor. And Bruce Banner. Ooh, who is that? Somebody very important, looks like. Tall, dark and handsome, with a woman on his arm and surrounded by… are those warrior women?" Wanda made her way over next to Micaela and peeked through the opening.

"King T'Challa is here," she announced. "With the Dora Milaje. And his plus one. And Shuri."

"There, finished," Natasha said. "Anyone else need a touch-up?" She wielded her makeup palate as easily as her weapons.

"Maybe me," Micaela suggested, sitting down and tilting her face up. "Gotta look my best. I'm walking down the aisle with Tony Stark today." Seraphina snorted.

"You make it sound like it's the two of you getting married," she noted dryly.

"We are married, _chica,"_ Micaela said breezily.

"Yes, you are," Seraphina agreed teasingly. "To different people. What would Cameron say?"

"Not a damn thing. He's taking pictures for me." Micaela paused as Natasha touched up her lipstick, then continued. "He knows that, at the end of the night, I'm still going home with him. I'm married, but I still have eyes. And an imagination." The dark-skinned woman flashed a smile. Nyssa smiled back at her, but shifted her attention to a different corner of the tent.

"Rani, you doing okay? You're always quiet, but I don't think I've heard a peep out of you since we got back from having pictures taken."

"Just nervous, I guess," Rani said softly, smiling. "I don't know too many people here aside from us." The gesture she made included everyone in the tent. "Besides, there's so much hype in the media about this wedding. I'm not used to being around celebrities and superheroes."

"Rani, they're just people. Just like everyone else," Nyssa pointed out gently. "You don't see me as a celebrity, do you?" Rani shrugged.

"Well, kind of," she admitted. "You are an Avenger now. And you're marrying Captain America. I'm sure you'll be much too busy saving the world soon to come spend time with your old friends." Nyssa got up and crossed the tent to her friend.

"I've been running search and rescue for three years now, and I've officially been an Avenger for four months. Have I changed so much in the last few months that you really think I would forget you?" she asked softly, taking Rani's hands in hers. Rani shook her head.

"No, but you will have less time for us. As you should, when the world needs saving," Nyssa shook her head.

"That's mostly a part-time gig. But I promise that I'll still make time for you guys. We'll still have our girls' nights. Maybe not quite as often, but we'll have them. And you know if you ever need me, you can call me anytime. I'll never be too important or too busy for my friends. Old or new."

"Don't worry, Rani," Seraphina reassured her. "We're not about to abandon you. Just stick with me and Mic, we'll make sure you have a good time. Tonight, and every other night." Rani smiled.

"I know you will." She waved a hand at Nyssa, who was looking troubled. "Don't worry about me, Nyssa. This is your day, and you have many guests to entertain. I will be fine."

* * *

The forty-five minutes seemed to both drag and fly by. In the blink of an eye, Bucky found himself standing in the gazebo in front of an audience of nearly two hundred. It was still surprising to him that, in the space of a few years, he had gone from having no close allies at all to having so many there to support him. He knew all the faces looking at him from the crowd. Many of them were from _Sanctuary_ , which still provided a haven for those who did not feel ready yet to attempt to integrate back into society. Bucky didn't often get to visit very often, but he was gratified that so many of them had come. He glanced back at Clint, who was standing serenely at the center of the gazebo. When Bucky and Nyssa had been looking for someone to perform the ceremony, he had been surprised when Clint volunteered. Mostly because Clint didn't seem very ministerial. But Clint had acquired quite a variety of random skills in the course of his myriad missions. He didn't mention details of how or why he had been ordained, just mumbled something about Budapest and assured them he knew what he was doing.

"Ready?" Clint murmured to Bucky. Swallowing, Bucky nodded. "Just remember, this part is the showiest, but it's just the start. You'll have the rest of your lives together to mess up and make it up to her again." Bucky half-smiled. He was certain there would be a fair bit of that. The music changed, and he turned his attention back to the aisle. Steve strolled up the red carpet with Seraphina on his arm. His tie and waistcoat were the same green of her dress. Seraphina's red hair seemed almost on fire in the autumn sunlight, and the leaf-green of her dress faded to a pale yellow where it rippled around her feet as she walked. Behind them, Tony escorted a beaming Micaela. Her dress started out a sunny, bright yellow which shifted to orange and then to red where the hem brushed the ground. Next, Wanda and Scott walked together, his scarlet tie and waistcoat a match to her dress, which darkened to a deep burgundy at the edge in tasteful ombre. Last but certainly not least, Sam and Rani made their way to the gazebo, Rani clad in burgundy that darkened to a purple that was nearly black at the hem. The men lined up behind Bucky, while the ladies stood across from him. Together, the bridesmaids gave the definite impression of autumn leaves. After them, little Gracie Barton carried a basket of flowers and colorful leaves, a crown of the same set atop her dark curls. Her dress incorporated the same colors as the bridesmaids', but in an autumnal watercolor. She made her way up the aisle with a surprising amount of grace and confidence for her five years. She smiled and waved as she reached the gazebo and saw her father. Clint smiled but silently gestured to where she was supposed to stand. Quiet laughter rippled through the audience. Darshan trotted up the red carpet, the rings attached to his harness. Bucky dropped one hand down, and Darshan touched his nose to the metal fingers, then sat obediently.

The music changed again, and everyone stood. Bucky looked to see his bride slowly making her way down the aisle towards him with Elijah at her side. Her dress shimmered in lovely cream with gold filigree leaves embroidered across the bodice and down the skirt, and a matching cape draped across her shoulders. She looked like a princess, or something out of a fairy tale. Or maybe a fairy princess. There was something ethereal and almost fae about her here in the woods, the late afternoon sun shining in a halo on her hair. His chest tightened at the sight. Time seemed to stop as she made her way towards him, or maybe it was just his heart.

"Breathe, Buck," Steve said softly behind him, and Bucky obediently took a shaky breath. Everything else seemed to disappear as she drew near. Then she was standing beside him, her hand clasped in his. At the contact, as it always did, his awareness flared with the sense of her, overflowing with love and regard for him. It filled him up, even as the small voice in the back of his head whispered that such grand feelings should belong to someone else more worthy than him. He told the voice to hush. The rest of the wedding party found their seats, except for Darshan, who was reluctant to leave Nyssa's side but sat quietly as the ceremony proceeded. There were words of wisdom and musings on the meaning of love, but they washed over him like babbling water. At the moment, his heart was full, and as she smiled at him, he marveled that this extraordinary woman could love him as completely as he did her.

There was much more to this whole getting married business than he expected. After the ceremony, they had more pictures with the professional photographer. In three years of being Captain America, Bucky had gotten marginally less camera shy, but still wasn't completely comfortable with having his picture taken. For these, however, he was willing to make an exception. He wanted to have as many memories of this day as possible. Whatever else happened, he didn't want to forget it.

* * *

By the time they returned from having pictures taken, the chairs in the clearing had been rearranged around long tables, and to the side was an extended table filled with enticing food. His stomach growled at the scent of it, and he remembered he had not eaten much earlier. His appetite was back now with a vengeance. They were soon seated back at the head table with plates piled high with food. As soon as the guests were similarly situated, and everyone settled into to eat, Seraphina stood up with a microphone in hand. She tapped on her glass with her fork, calling for silence, and the crowd obeyed. Bucky glanced over at Nyssa, but she seemed confused.

"Those of you who know Nyssa, know that she doesn't ask for much for herself," Seraphina began. "As her maid of honor, I had very light duties. She didn't want a bridal shower. She said that she already has everything she needs. Her bachelorette party? Just a typical Friday girl's night out, except she let us dress her up in a silly t-shirt. She didn't even get drunk." She dropped her voice to a secretive whisper. "Don't tell anyone, but I think I got drunk enough for both of us." Quiet chuckles rippled through the crowd.

"Yes, you did!" Nyssa called out, and the audience laughed even louder. Seraphina made a face at her friend but continued.

"She even told me I didn't have to make a speech at dinner. Well, sorry honey, but I have something to say, so you're going to get one anyway." Nyssa shook her head and sighed resignedly. "See, five years ago, she came back from a trip overseas looking… a little worse for the wear. She wouldn't say where she had been, what she'd been doing, or who she'd been with, although it was pretty obvious she was hung up on some mystery man she'd mentioned while she was on this trip. I mean, in retrospect it's understandable. Being mysterious about it plays way better than, 'I went on vacation to a place that some people don't even believe exists and got involved with a brainwashed ex-assassin wanted for war crimes in several different countries.'" Her deadpan delivery elicited more laughter. "Now, I don't know what happened between the two of them. I don't know why they broke it off. I just know that she came back broken-hearted. All I could get out of her about it was that his name definitely wasn't Jimmy, but that was the only name she'd give me, and that she was worried that she had ruined this chance to have a great love in her life. She then proceeded to transform herself once again, from CEO of a nonprofit, to an activist, then to a finder of lost souls, finally embracing who and what she has always been in some form or another: a hero. Then, about a year and a half ago, this man comes by to see her." She gestured towards Bucky with a flourish. "And as soon as she realized who was waiting for her, I could tell. He was her Jimmy." She glanced over at Nyssa, then cupped her hand over her mouth and the microphone, as if telling her a secret. "Pssst, Nyssa. Jimmy is another name for James."

"Never gonna live that down," Nyssa muttered under her breath, her cheeks pink. Bucky laced his fingers comfortingly through hers under the table, though he couldn't suppress the grin on his face. He had half-convinced himself that Nyssa's best friend disliked him, but this put a whole new light on her stubborn refusal to call him anything but the nickname he had never used. Seraphina waited for the murmurs and laughter to die down before she continued.

"Since then, she has been the happiest I have ever seen her, so Jimmy, whatever you're doing, keep it up. I've known Nyssa for a long time, though terrible tragedies and amazing triumphs. I know you already know about her kind and generous heart, her amazing mind, her tenacity, and so many other wonderful qualities. Know that she will not remain the same as she is right now, but she will always be amazing. She needs someone just as amazing, who will treat her with the respect, love and honesty that she deserves. And from everything I've seen, you are that. So thank you. I wish the both of you all the best." She paused to wait for the applause to die away. "I think this is the part where I'm supposed to warn you that if you break her heart, I'll kill you, but since you probably know at least ten different ways to kill me, I'll leave that one alone." There was more laughter and applause, and Seraphina finally sat down. Bucky could feel Nyssa's relief that it was over, and her discomfiture starting to fade, now that she realized he wasn't upset by anything Seraphina had revealed. He leaned in closer to kiss her, and her lips eagerly met his.

* * *

It seemed only minutes before the dinner was done and the tables were cleared away to make room for the rest of the festivities. The sky was an echo of the autumn leaves as the setting sun painted brilliant colors just as Bucky swung his new bride out onto the dance floor for the first time. Their guests kept a respectful space as the music washed over them.

 _Do you hear me,_

 _I'm talking to you_

 _Across the water across the deep blue ocean_

 _Under the open sky, oh my, baby I'm trying_

 _Boy I hear you in my dreams_

 _I feel your whisper across the sea_

 _I keep you with me in my heart_

 _You make it easier when life gets hard_

 _I'm lucky I'm in love with my best friend_

 _Lucky to have been where I have been_

 _Lucky to be coming home again_

It almost seemed a dream, dancing with Nyssa in his arms and surrounded by friends. If it was, he didn't want to wake up, content to remain in this dreamworld forever. She looked up at him and smiled, and he decided that all the years of torment, the decades stolen from him, the long dark nights of despair when he wondered if his atonement should be by his own hands… it all was worth it, after all, because it led to this moment, with her in his arms and promises of forever on her lips.

* * *

 **Hey, everyone, welcome back! Thanks for all the favorites and follows! Thanks to DarylDixon'sLover, Qweb, karina001, NotMarge and Xanderseye for the reviews! I wanted to let us have some sweetness to start out with. Everybody buckled up for the rest?**


	3. Viper

**Disclaimer: Just for fun, not for profit. This is Marvel's universe. Some of the characters are original.**

* * *

 **Viper**

The dark warehouse had broken windows and faded signs, but that didn't line up with the men moving around inside, especially at this late hour. _Awful lot of people here for an abandoned warehouse._ Nyssa slowed her stride and let Darshan sniff at the ground, his nose telling him stories of who had been there, where they had come from, what they had been carrying. In the past three weeks, there had been a handful of incidents of people falling ill with a mysterious illness. The first group had been some tourists who had gotten suddenly sick after visiting the Statue of Liberty. They had all been hospitalized, but the doctors couldn't figure out what was making them sick. After five hours, they were all dead, apparently from asphyxiation, and the doctors still had no answers. Next, half of the first forty finalists of the New York City Marathon had collapsed shortly after crossing the finish line. The first one died on the way to the hospital, and the rest all perished before the day had passed. Autopsies and toxicology reports revealed nothing, leaving doctors and police baffled. An entire 15th class reunion was stricken, and half of them had died already, though a handful were still in critical care. The police had finally asked the Avengers to assist in the case. What few clues they had been able to find lead to this warehouse.

She noticed the guard dogs before she heard the low growls. Darshan stepped closer and slightly in front of her, hackles raised. She stroked his head calmingly and took a couple treats out of her pouch. She waited until the angry canines approached, then crouched down and extended her hand placatingly.

"Good boy, good girl, want a treat?" she coaxed soothingly, radiating calm to the dogs. The growling quieted, then ceased, and they crept closer. She tossed the treats to them. They snuffled on the ground, then eagerly gobbled up the tasty lumps of meat. Nyssa scratched behind the ears of the biggest one, then continued on. The treats had not been intermingling with the training morsels she carried for Darshan. They were laced with a mild sedative that would make the dogs sleepy for a few hours, but would not have lasting effects. She slipped around the corner to the entrance, the security panel lighting up in her awareness with the cyber widget tucked behind her ear. She touched the pad briefly. A moment later, the door clicked open, and the woman slipped silently inside with her dog. The guards inside were focused mainly on the perimeter, unaware that it had already been breached.

Nyssa surveyed the room through Darshan's eyes. The main floor of the warehouse was mostly empty, save for two large stacks of crates that took up the south end of it. The crates were unmarked aside from strings of serial numbers stamped on the sides. Beside one of the stacks were several pallets of plastic-wrapped goods. She reached out to the nearest pallet, the plastic crackling under her fingers. Taking out her utility knife, she slashed through the plastic and pushed it aside to take a closer look what it contained. Her hand closed around a familiar shape, and she frowned. _Bottled… water?_ The pallets contained flats and flats of seemingly harmless bottled water. Darshan's nose told her that the crates held more of the same. She stashed the bottle in a pocket in Darshan's harness.

 _Something isn't adding up_. There was more to this warehouse than it seemed. Nyssa realized there were several levels below ground. She sensed a handful of people moving around twenty meters below her feet. Another control panel was on the wall, glowing softly in her consciousness. She led Darshan over to it and ran her fingers over it. A section of the wall slid back, revealing a staircase leading down. Her steps echoed in the stairwell as they descended. The first level was dark and empty, although Darshan's nose detected metal, industrial lubricants and disinfectants. The next level down contained several computers, glowing softly under the cyber widget's influence. Nyssa unlocked the door and moved to the nearest tower. Pausing, she rested her hand on top of it and closed her eyes in concentration. The data was encrypted, but by now she was quite adept at decoding it as she downloaded the information. Tony had modified the widget to store a copy as well, but she could access and sort through the files herself as well. She frowned. Even decrypted, most of the information was encoded. Batch numbers, serial numbers, dates and times. It didn't make much sense without context. That context was what she was here searching for. Pausing by the security system that she had previously disarmed, she accessed the CCTV system and perused the entire facility. Four guards were patrolling the warehouse that she had already searched. Four more were stationed on the lowest level. That was most likely where she would find her answers. She just had to avoid the guards.

Darshan led the way, head low as he sniffed at the baseboards on the way down. Nyssa urged him to the left as they ducked through the door. A small safe was set into the back wall. Her probing fingers made short work of the security, and the door swung open with a click. Inside she found several smooth glass vials. She quickly loaded them into a pocket on the inside of her tunic. She needed to get them back to the lab for analysis quickly; there were lives depending on it. Turning, she guided Darshan back the way they had come. There were three other men in the room, but they were on the other side of it, and their attention was elsewhere. As she opened the door to leave, she felt their attention slowly turn towards her, and changed her pace to a sprint. She and Darshan ran up the stairs as two of them chased after her. At the top of the stairs, the wall had moved back, and it took her precious seconds to locate the panel that would open it up again. She could hear their footsteps drawing closer. She didn't wait for the wall to slide aside fully but darted through as soon as there was a space she could fit through. They burst out into the warehouse, the crates of bottled water looming tall ahead of them. She ducked to the side as she realized the sentries on this level had been alerted to her presence and were also in pursuit. Darshan dropped his head low and growled as two of the guards approached, cutting off her path to the exit. Behind her, the first pair was catching up.

"Are you lost, little girl?" One of them sneered. Nyssa's eyes widened, and she arranged her features in the most innocent expression possible.

"Well, possibly," she admitted. "I was supposed to meet someone here, I think. I mean, this was the address he gave me. A Tyrone?" The two men exchanged glances.

"You often meet strange men at abandoned warehouses in the middle of the night?' The other one queried. Nyssa let out a nervous laugh.

"Well, it does seem silly when you put it like that," she acknowledged. "So… is there a Tyrone here?" The first man laughed.

"No, there's no Tyrone here," he said.

"Oh, okay," Nyssa said, sounding slightly relieved. "Well, he must have stood me up, then. I'll be on my way." She took several confident steps, trying to pass between them, but they both reached out and stopped her.

"There may not be a Tyrone here," one of them continued, "but we do have someone who is going to want to meet you and talk to you." They each gripped her arms. She dropped Darshan's harness and let out a high-pitched whistle. The black dog tore away, disappearing around the stacks of plastic-wrapped water bottles. One of the guards fired a couple rounds after him, but the other one stopped him.

"Not so close to the goods, man. I don't want to have to put on a hazmat suit and clean up that shit if you blow a hole through it," he protested. Nyssa frowned. _The water is contaminated somehow._ She quickly sifted through the information she had downloaded earlier. _Poison?_ Then they were dragging her along with them, back towards the secret panel in the wall, and she had to concentrate on keeping up with them. As she walked, she took advantage of the situation to leisurely pick through their minds, finding out what they knew about what was going on. The bottled water _was_ poisoned. It had definitely been responsible for the recent deaths. It was labeled identically to several popular brands, and delivered to the events as… trial runs? Nyssa's stomach dropped. The biggest attacks hadn't yet begun. She probed deeper as they took her down to the lowest level and through another door that led to an underground tunnel, taking her further away from the warehouse. Her blood ran cold as she realized these men weren't run-of-the-mill rent-a-cops, but members of a specific organization.

HYDRA.

* * *

"They got her. She's getting too far away for me to hear," Wanda admitted, her face grim. Bucky nodded. He could feel her moving further away, had caught the burst of her alarm as she was swept away faster.

"We go to Plan B," he declared. They had known this would be a possibility, but Nyssa had insisted it was worth the risk. She had also pointed out that it could lead to finding out who was organizing the attacks, and that of all the Avengers, she was the one most easily found due to the deep connection she shared with Bucky. The internal compass wasn't quite the same as her ability to communicate with Wanda over distance, but no matter where she was taken, as long as she was still alive, he would be able to find her. Most times, it was a comfort, as no matter how far away she traveled from him, he knew she was still okay. It was less reassuring now. He could sense the distance between them increasing, and he itched to follow. Sam raised his eyebrows at him.

"So, boss?" he prompted. Bucky shook his head, raising a finger for pause as he took a step towards the window. They were camped out three blocks from the abandoned warehouse. Initially, the plan had been to be backup and swoop in at the first sign of things going south. Nyssa had argued that if she let them take her, the could find out much more about who they were and what their plan was. Bucky hadn't been thrilled with the plan, but it did make logical sense. Nyssa was most effective when she was up close and personal. There was no denying she was good at what she did. He just preferred plans that kept him by her side. He glimpsed movement through the window and went to the door. Opening it, he snapped his fingers. Darshan came loping out of the shadows between streetlights, stopped right in front of Bucky and sat, panting and looking up at Bucky in anticipation. Bucky reached down and pulled the bottle of water out of Darshan's harness. Standing, he half-turned towards the others, who were waiting for his signal.

"Wanda," he said, tossing the bottle to her. "Get this back to the lab for analysis." She caught it and nodded before sprinting out the door. "Falcon, Hawkeye, Ant-Man, Widow, Darshan, with me. Let's go get her."

Their underground path took them through many twists and turns, but Nyssa was used to navigating in the dark by now. Her captors clustered around her, preventing any avenues of escape, but she had no intention of going anywhere before she found out who they were bringing her to see. Furtively, she slipped her cyber widget from behind her ear and hid it in one of the many secret pockets of her tunic. Their pace slowed, finally, and hands forced her down into a chair, her wrists tied to the back of it. The men then stepped to the side, their energy suddenly fearful. The presence that approached was feminine, but cold, ambition and arrogance streaking through her poisonous mien.

"Who is this woman, and why have you brought her to me?" she demanded, her English carrying a slight Hungarian accent.

"She was pokin' around the warehouse, ma'am," one of the guards stammered. "Even got downstairs. Not sure what she saw."

"Was she alone?" the woman asked.

"She had a dog with her," the one to her left volunteered. "It got away."

"Did she, now?" Cold hands touched lightly under Nyssa's chin, tilting her head back, then turning it from one side to the other. Nyssa let her eyes relax, for once not attempting to give the impression of a sighted person. "I doubt she saw much of anything, considering that she is blind." She released Nyssa's head and took a step back, but the brief physical contact had already given Nyssa a glimpse into who the woman was and what her plans were. "Who are you, and why were you at the warehouse?"

"I'm a journalist for the Brooklyn Eagle. I was supposed to be meeting an informant who had promised me information for a story on the recent mysterious illnesses that have been making the rounds in the city," Nyssa lied.

"Really? What kind of information?" the woman who called herself Viper inquired. Nyssa shrugged as best she could with her hands tied to the chair.

"I don't know. He never showed up," she said, squaring her shoulders in annoyance. "Which is vexing, because this story was supposed to be my big break."

"So you think there is a story here, hmm?" Viper asked.

"Well, I do _now,_ " Nyssa said emphatically. "Why would there be henchmen dragging me through underground tunnels for three miles unless there's something big going on?"

"Why, indeed?" Viper replied, annoyance flaring in the direction of the guards. "What did you say your name was?"

"Natalie Souza," Nyssa replied.

"Well, Natalie," Viper declared. "Perhaps you might be of use to me. A little exposure may not be a bad thing…" She slowly walked in a circle around Nyssa, contemplating her options. "Hmm, yes… perhaps…"

" _Fraulein Viper,"_ one of the guards interjected in German, " _There is no record of a Natalie Souza at the Brooklyn Eagle."_ Nyssa suddenly found herself the focus of the other woman's contemptuous venom.

"So she is a liar," Viper hissed. Stepping forward, she grasped Nyssa's chin again, tilting it up. "Who are you really, little liar?" A slow smile spread over Nyssa's face. She had been blocking the niggling sense of recognition in all of them since she had been captured. Now she let those last pieces fall into place. Viper pulled her hand back as if she had been burned. Taking a large step back, she glared at her underlings, incensed. " _You brought an Avenger to me, here?"_ she spat at them in German. _"Have you all gone completely mad? She could ruin everything!"_ Taking a deep breath, Viper squared her shoulders. " _No matter. She will not be able to tell anyone about this place, or our plans."_ She stepped briskly to one side of the room, then hovered over Nyssa once more. She felt a cold hand touch her shoulder and leaned away. In an instant, she was in Viper's head, staring through her eyes as a needle filled with lethal fluid aimed for her deltoid.

* * *

Bucky jogged to keep up with Darshan's pace. He had been mildly surprised that the dog didn't turn back towards the warehouse or sniff at the ground to pick up Nyssa's trail. Instead, the dog trotted along as if pulled by a string, moving in the same direction that Bucky's gut was telling him to go. He supposed he shouldn't really be surprised at it. If there was one being on Earth that spent more time with Nyssa or was more connected to her than Bucky, it was her canine companion. He cut across alleyways and over railroad tracks, finally coming to a stop in the middle of a street, right next to a manhole cover. The dog immediately sat, his gaze focused on the street below his feet. A car honked at them as it swerved to avoid the man and the dog in the middle of the street, its driver swearing at them out the window. Bucky guided Darshan to the side of the road in time to meet the others, who had given up following their direct path and just tried to keep them in sight.

"Dead end?" asked Natasha. Bucky shook his head.

"No, she's here," he confirmed. Natasha looked around in confusion.

"Did she develop the power to become invisible and nobody told me?" she asked, annoyance in her tone. Bucky half-smiled distractedly and shook his head again.

"She's here, just…. Down," he explained, pointing toward the pavement.

"Ah, they took her underground?" Sam asked hesitantly. "Like, in the sewers?" His expression revealed how he felt about those close, stinking quarters.

"Maybe not," Clint interjected. He glanced up the block, where the dark windows of a bank overlooked the street. "There's abandoned subway tunnels that run through there. I bet you anything that's where they've got her."

"So how do we get there?" Scott asked. Clint gestured with his head.

"Follow me," he said, and took off. Darshan whimpered as they walked away from the point his senses told him Nyssa was. Bucky let his hand drop reassuringly to the dog's head as they ran after Clint.

* * *

Viper blinked, frowned, and shook her head slightly as her vision went double, then cleared. She carefully injected her syringe full of deadly poison into the woman who had dared venture into her lair. She would know who she was dealing with, but it was already too late for her. The needle pierced her skin, and Viper watched the volatile fluid vanish as she depressed the plunger. She was administering four or five times the amount that was necessary to kill the woman, but given her reputation, it was prudent to make sure. She withdrew the needle and walked over to the garbage to dispose of it. Turning, she folded her arms over her chest and waited.

The woman tied to the chair in the middle of the room continued to sit quietly. Viper frowned and walked closer. She was breathing easily, her skin tone unchanged, her manner relaxed. She wasn't even perspiring. She tilted her face in Viper's direction.

"Is something wrong?" she asked innocently.

"How are you feeling?" Viper inquired.

"This chair isn't very comfortable," the Patchwork Doll replied nonchalantly. "Why? What was in that syringe?"

"Poison," Viper replied truthfully. "You should be feeling the effects of it shortly. At that dose, you should be dead within the hour."

"Should I assume it's the same poison that has been causing the mysterious deaths around the city recently?" the Doll inquired, remarkably calm considering she had been informed of her death. Viper sneered at her.

"You think I would be so stupid as to reveal my entire plan to you?" she scoffed, pacing back and forth in front of her condemned captive. "Then again, who are you going to tell? And it is quite a brilliant plan, if I do say so myself." She stopped and planted herself in front of the Doll. "There are five different poisons, each distilled into two thousand bottles of spring water, modified to be colorless, flavorless, scentless, completely undetectable and untraceable. Those bottles are labeled identically to the popular brands on the market, distributed randomly about the city. People start dying. Eventually, they figure out that it's the bottled water, and the public is warned. A panic breaks out, people stop buying bottled water. That's when we go to phase two: poisoning the public water supply. The majority of the city will be wiped out overnight." She cackled gleefully.

"But why?" the Doll asked with a frown. "Why kill all those people? What could you possibly gain from that?"

"Why not?" Viper retorted. "That's just the beginning. A calling card, of sorts. To let the world know that HYDRA is back, and still a power to be reckoned with. And with the city's population wiped out, HYDRA will have a base of operations and a place to call home." She moved closer to her prisoner. "Are you feeling nothing yet? No tingling, no burning, no numbness, no nausea?

"A little heartburn, maybe, but I think that's from the curry I had for dinner," she said placidly. Tilting her chin up, she smiled at Viper. "You only thought you injected me with your poison. In reality, most of it trickled down my back. Perceptions are easily altered." Viper stared at her for a moment.

"If that's the truth, it is easily rectified," she said stiffly, and strode over to her workbench to draw up a fresh dose. The Patchwork Doll laughed softly.

"Oh, I don't know if you're going to have time for that," she said, shaking her head. "They're going to be here any minute." Viper frowned.

"Who is going to be here?" she hissed. "They could not have tracked you here. This place is shielded against all electronic tracking."

"Mmm. But our tracking system is a little… unconventional," the Doll declared. She shifted her weight in the chair, casually pulling one foot up underneath her on the seat. Viper finished loading the new syringe and advanced towards her hostage. She had only closed half the distance when the Patchwork Doll pushed off the seat of the chair with one foot, pulling her bound wrists to the top of it, then brought the chair over her head and in front of her in one smooth motion. Planting the feet of the chair on the cement floor, she flipped over it like a pommel horse, kicking the poison-filled syringe out of Viper's hand, then landing and swinging the chair like a weapon. The legs splintered and broke as they collided with Viper's head, and she staggered backwards, seeing stars. Around the perimeter of the room, one of the guards sprouted an arrow from his leg, and another cried out as a dark blur caught him from behind. They all looked around warily, weapons drawn. Viper recovered and drew a revolver, pointing it at the Patchwork Doll.

"You caught me off guard," she snarled. "That will not happen again." She fired off two quick shots, but nearly dropped the weapons as a round shield slammed into her shoulder. A tall man with dark hair and a metal arm suddenly appeared between Viper and her target, neatly catching the shield as it rebounded off her body.

Bucky took a step closer to Nyssa, shield raised to cover both of them as he sliced through the ropes that bound her, never taking his eyes off of Viper. In his peripheral vision, he noted Black Widow, Hawkeye and Falcon fighting with her henchmen. Ant-Man was probably there, too, but he couldn't see him at the moment. Darshan made a beeline for his mistress, standing protectively at her side with head high, hackles up, teeth bared, looking for threats. Viper fired four more rounds in rapid succession. Bucky deflected three of them with his shield and the last with his metal hand as he lunged forward and crunched the muzzle of her gun with vibranium fingers. She tossed the gun aside and raised her hands. For a moment, he thought she might be surrendering, and lowered his shield a fraction. Instead, she drew a pair of swords from hidden scabbards on her back with a flourish, coming at him with them in the same breath. He barely got his shield back up in time, falling back several steps as she advanced on him in a flurry of strikes.

Nyssa rubbed Darshan's head and ears, flooding him with gratitude. Then her hands glided down to his harness and checked the secret pocket. The water bottle had been removed, and in its place was a GLOCK G17. She pulled it out just as Darshan lunged at one of the approaching guards, his teeth locking around the man's forearm. The man screamed and dropped his gun. His partner aimed his weapon at the woman and her dog, approaching from the flank to take them by surprise. The element of surprise was immediately turned on him as the woman raised her arm without looking at him and fired. Her shot caught him between the eyes, and his surprise ended. Nyssa scratched behind Darshan's ears.

"Good boy," she murmured.

Viper was skilled, she was quick, and she was strong. Bucky bought himself a few seconds by deflecting her blades into the wall. She pulled them out as he fell back, shield raised. She dropped easily into a defensive stance and they circled each other warily. The sounds of fighting all around them had escalated as more of her henchmen arrived, and he tried not to let the sound of gunfire distract him.

"Changed allegiances, I see, Winter Soldier," she goaded.

"They never truly had my allegiance to begin with," he snarled back. "But you can call me Captain."

"Well, Captain, perhaps we can work out an agreement," she suggested. "Help me restore HYDRA to its former glory, and you can be my second when I rule over all the developed world."

"Not even tempted," he spat at her. "I remember you. I know what you are. You failed then, and you'll fail now."

"Quite the motley crew you're working with now," she observed. "The Russian double agent, the semi-reformed thief, the Army vet in a bird suit, and the man who still uses a bow and arrow in the 21st century."

"Says the woman who brought swords to a gunfight," he pointed out.

"In close quarters, I find them far more useful," she replied easily, then sprang at him with a series of slashing attacks that forced him back again. "Speaking of useless things, did you actually try to send a blind woman to infiltrate my headquarters?" Raising the shield higher to cover his head, Bucky ran at her, pressing her back several steps along the wall. She attempted to slash at him, the blade flickering under the shield, but he pivoted and trapped her wrist between the shield and the wall. There was a crunch of wrist bones, and she cried out and dropped the sword. He caught it before it hit the floor and brought it up swiftly to point directly at her throat.

"I did not try, I succeeded. And you watch your damn mouth. That's my wife," he growled. Viper's eyes widened slightly, glancing nervously from him to the blade hovering centimeters from her neck. She retreated two steps, then leapt forward, her blade slashing towards his neck. He kept the shield tucked in close to his body, preventing attack to his vital organs, and parried her blade to the side. She answered with a quick riposte that almost nicked his face, but he deflected using his metal arm. They traded attacks back and forth, the clashing of metal blades an odd counterpoint to the gunshots and grunts around them. She launched a series of kicks that came in low and strong to strategic parts of his body, eliciting gasps and muttered profanity. She feinted with the sword, making him raise his in response, then kicked his shield and sent it flying halfway across the room. In his moment of distraction, she came slashing at his neck again, going for a killing blow. A shot rang out, and Viper screeched. Dropping the sword, she clutched her bleeding hand with her broken one. They both looked to the side in time to see Nyssa lowering her GLOCK. Bucky grinned with pride. Viper scowled at them both.

"You may think you won this battle, but this war has just begun," she spat, then raised her voice. "HYDRA! Kill them!" She fled as the henchmen converged on them. Bucky took a step in Nyssa's direction. She turned, pressing her back to his.

"Careful with those swords, my love," she warned him. "The blades are poisoned." Bucky glanced down at it with eyebrows raised speculatively.

"Is that so?" He said, brandishing the weapon at the nearest HYDRA agent. The man glanced at it nervously but stayed out of range and fired his handgun at Bucky. Bucky easily deflected it with the shield, then took a large stride forward and slashed the man's hand before turning his attention to the next one. The man screamed and clutched at his hand, which was already turning colors. Nyssa covered his six, staying at his back and shooting all comers with unerring accuracy. Darshan wove around them, attacking anyone who ventured too close but otherwise staying within Nyssa's reach. Bucky deflected several bullets that would have otherwise killed the dog. They moved through the oncoming HYDRA crowd in a deadly dance, moving together and cutting them down, leaving a wide swath of bodies in their wake. Around the perimeter of the tunnels, the sounds of combat persisted as the other Avengers picked off the ones who were left. Only a handful of HYDRA agents remained, and as they realized their odds, they fled. Black Widow and Hawkeye emerged from the shadows, coming into the light alongside Falcon. Ant-Man suddenly grew beside them. Bucky turned to face Nyssa for the first time since she had left to investigate the warehouse. Sweeping her up into his arms, he pressed his lips triumphantly to hers. She returned the kiss enthusiastically.

"Good work, Doll," he said proudly.

"Thanks," she responded, her smile slowly fading into a confused frown as she touched her lips where his had just been. His own smile faded.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"I don't know," she replied. Her words were slow and careful, as if she were having trouble pronouncing them. "Face is going numb. Stomach on fire."

"Looks like you got hit," Sam observed, pointing to a slowly spreading stain on her patchwork tunic.

"Just a flesh wound," she grimaced. "Grazed the ribs." Her frown deepened, and she suddenly fumbled at the tunic, pulling it open. She checked the inner pocket with hands rapidly losing sensation. "One of the vials broke." Her speech was slurred now.

"Which means the poison seeped directly into your bloodstream," Natasha concluded for her. Nyssa nodded, her face white and slightly green.

"Do you know what kind of poison it is?" Sam asked sharply. Nyssa's head wobbled.

"Five diff'rent kinds," she mumbled. Her legs buckled. Bucky caught her, lowering her slowly to the ground. With his metal arm, he pulled out the contents of her inner pocket. Four vials, and glass shards of a fifth. Her tunic was soaked with blood and poison.

"Shit, shit, shit, fucking shit." The words echoed Bucky's sentiments, but he was surprised to hear them coming from Scott. "What the hell are we gonna do, Cap?"

"Whatever it is, we better do it quick," Sam said grimly. "Based on the attacks, she probably has hours, at most." Bucky looked back down at the barely-conscious Nyssa, heart in his throat.

* * *

Thanks to DarylDixon'sLover, karina001 and Qweb for your lovely comments! Reviews are always appreciated!


	4. Cold Comfort

**Just for fun, not for profit. Most characters are property of Marvel Cinematic Universe. I'm just borrowing them for a bit.**

* * *

 **Cold Comfort**

With so much at stake, this was not the time to let his fears take over. Swallowing back his panic, Bucky stood resolutely, cradling Nyssa's still body in his arms.

"First, let's get out of here, before the others come back with reinforcements," he declared. He set a rapid pace, one that made the others jog to keep up, but it still seemed like it took an eternity before they emerged at street level. Avengers Tower was all the way across town, and traffic was starting to pick up. Decisively, he turned to Sam.

"Falcon, you take her," he instructed. Sam gave him a surprised look. "You can get her back faster than anyone else. I'll call ahead and let them know you're coming." Sam nodded, and Bucky carefully transferred her body to Sam's strong and capable arms. Sam took two steps away from the others, then spread his wings and took to the sky. Darshan yelped and made a little jump, as if to try to fly after them. Bucky settled the dog, then sent a call through to Avengers Tower, coded to let Friday know it was urgent.

"Stark. Talk to me," Tony answered.

"Tony, how are you coming on that prototype cryochamber you were working on?" Bucky didn't have time for idle chit chat, given the circumstances.

"Assembled and functional in theory, but I haven't done any test runs yet. Why?" Tony's voice on the line suddenly became suspicious.

"Get it prepped. It's about to get its first test run," Bucky instructed.

"What? Why? Or more importantly, who?" Tony asked sharply. "I don't know that I've worked all the bugs out yet. There is a non-zero chance that if we put someone in there, it might kill them."

"Nyssa's been poisoned." Bucky replied, his words clipped. "If we can't slow it down, she'll be dead by the end of the day."

"I am not a medical doctor," Tony argued. "Wouldn't it be better to send her to a hospital where she can have actual medical care?"

"How many of the recent poisoning victims have survived, even if they made it to a hospital?" Bucky pointed out. Tony didn't answer, but they both knew what the answer to that was. "Look, I know it's not a perfect solution, but it should buy us some time to figure out what the poison is, come up with an antidote. Some of it soaked into her clothing, so that should give us a place to start."

"What, so now I'm a medical doctor _and_ a toxicologist?" Tony snapped. Bucky could hear the anxiety in the other man's voice. They both understood what the stakes were.

"Sam can give you a hand, and we'll be there as soon as we can. I trust you, Tony," he said, putting more confidence in his voice than he really felt.

"I make no promises," Tony said, and the line went dead.

* * *

For all his protests about not being a medical doctor, Tony had dedicated the twelfth floor of Avengers Tower to attending to potential medical concerns of beings whose bodies didn't always work the same way as an average human. Some of it was standard hospital equipment, but much of it was experimental, mostly created by Tony. The cryochamber was based on Wakandan design, with a few Stark flourishes. It was open and humming, Tony making a few last adjustments while Sam tended to Nyssa, lying still and small on the table next to it. Her heavy tunic had been stripped away, taken for analysis by Dr. Banner, leaving her in a light sleeveless top and leggings. An IV dripped fluids and chemicals into her body, readying it for sub-zero temperatures that would slow down and stop all her body processes, suspending her life until they could figure out a way to save it.

"How's that chamber prep coming, Tony?" Sam asked, his tone impatient.

"Just tweaking a couple things," Tony replied tersely. "How's the patient?"

"Pulse is 38, and the atropine isn't doing much," Sam replied. "Kidney and liver starting to shut down. Getting awful close to now or never territory." He turned at the sound of a footstep behind him to see Bucky had entered the room. From his expression, he had been there long enough to hear Sam's assessment of Nyssa's condition.

"Okay, it's ready as it's going to be," Tony announced. He nodded at Sam, and together they lifted the unconscious woman into the chamber. Bucky stepped forward to help, holding her in place as the other two strapped her down. Her skin was already cold to his touch, and even her normally-active mind was unresponsive. She was fading fast. The glass door slid into place, and Tony activated the capsule. The room was silent save for the sound of the machinery as the chamber cycled through its process. First one green light flickered on, then another, and the sound of a collective exhale sighed through the room.

"Stable," Sam announced, the word a prayer of gratitude. "Now we just have to figure out the next step."

"Well, let's see what our angry green friend has come up with, shall we?" Tony quipped, leading the others out of the medical suite and towards the elevator. Bucky paused in the doorway and glanced down to see Darshan lying on the floor at the base of the cryochamber.

"Come, Darshan," he called softly, adding a whistle to summon the dog. Darshan's ears twitched, but he didn't rise, or even lift his head. Heaving a sigh, he whined softly, then closed his eyes. Bucky debated going back and making the dog follow him, but he understood the impulse to throw himself on the floor at her feet and wait for her to wake up. Instead, he turned and jogged to catch up with the others.

* * *

Bruce Banner was frowning at the display next to the liquid chromatography – mass spectrometry system when the others trooped in. He looked over, his expression troubled and slightly annoyed.

"Tony, this is not my area of expertise," he reminded his friend. "I'm not a toxicologist. I am not a chemist. I am a nuclear physicist." He enunciated his title carefully.

"Yes, but you're like the fourth smartest person I know, so you can help me figure it out," Tony returned. "What do you have so far?"

"Well, I was able to isolate a couple different compounds from her tunic." His expression had gone from annoyed to bemused. "…. fourth smartest, really?"

"Have we identified the compounds yet?" Tony asked.

"Nuclear physicist," Dr. Banner repeated, tapping himself in the chest. "It's still in process."

"And the vials?" Tony prompted expectantly.

"They're next in the queue," Bruce volleyed back. "You want fast, or you want accurate?" He leaned closer to Tony and pointed at himself. "Nu-cle-ar phys-i-cist," he stage whispered slowly. Tony waved a hand at him. Bucky shook his head.

"Okay, guys. Since she's safe in cryo, this doesn't have to be a race," he reminded them quietly. "Take the time you need, just keep working." He glanced upwards. "Friday, Avengers assemble, main conference room."

"Aye, Captain," the computer responded. Bucky reflexively grimaced slightly, but headed towards the exit, Sam trailing behind him.

* * *

The conference room was already occupied when Sam and Bucky arrived. Wanda was seated at the end of the table, looking as if she had been there for quite some time already. Vision hovered next to her. Clint and Natasha were next to each other, across from her. Scott came jogging in just moments after Bucky sat down. Natasha slid something across the table to Bucky. He caught it and was mildly surprised to see Nyssa's cyber widget in his hand.

"I rescued that from one of her secret pockets before Bruce whisked it away for analysis," Natasha explained. Bucky nodded thoughtfully, turning the tiny gadget over in his palm.

"Okay, here's the plan," he announced. Everyone's attention was immediately on him. "Stark and Banner are figuring out what kind of poisons we're dealing with. Wilson, Maximoff, I need you to contact the police departments and news stations, coordinate a release to the public warning about the poisoned water bottles that isn't going to cause a panic. Barton, Vision, Romanov, Lang… get this data downloaded and see if you can make any sense of it." He slid the widget across the table back to Natasha. "Also, investigate the Viper and see what you can uncover about her background and training, figure out what the rest of her plan might be. I believe she has also gone by Madame Hydra in the past." He stood up. "Let's meet back in the lab at noon. That gives us five hours. Once we have more information, we might be able to come up with a more cohesive plan." Nodding, the Avengers stood and filed out of the conference room. Sam hung back as everyone filed out in front of him.

"And what are you going to do, Captain America?" he asked lightly, but his expression was serious, his gaze both concerned and slightly suspicious.

"I think I'm going to call in some reinforcements," Bucky replied. Sam raised his eyebrows at him.

"Oh? Who are you thinking? Dr. Strange? Spider-Man? Thor? Black Panther?" he asked. Bucky half-smiled.

"We'll see," he said cryptically.

* * *

Bucky swung back by the medical wing before heading back up to his quarters. Darshan was still lying on the cold floor, head in his paws. All the indicator lights on the cryochamber were still reassuringly green. Bucky whistled, trying to summon the dog, but Darshan ignored him, stubbornly refusing to move. Bucky didn't really blame him. Letting mourning dogs lie, he left.

The apartment that he and Nyssa shared was on the seventeenth floor, with an amazing view of the city and Central Park. It was spacious, luxurious, and up to date with all the latest amenities and innovations, thanks to Tony. A far cry from the place he had called home in Romania. Still, even coming home to such lavish comforts was little consolation. Without her there, it felt much less like home. A flash of green, a trill, and a familiar weight landed on his shoulder. He reached up to scratch Balaur under the chin, but the little dragon's head was craned away from him, stretching towards the doorway.

"Sorry, my scaly friend," Bucky sighed. "It's just us, for now." With a disappointed squeak, the reptile draped itself over Bucky's shoulder and around his neck. Bucky stroked the dragon's nose with his left hand as he made his way across the apartment. As the fingers passed near the dragon's mouth, Balaur snapped at the shiny gold band encircling his ring finger. Bucky clucked his tongue and tapped Balaur reprovingly on the end of his snout. "Leave my wedding band alone," he admonished. "You can't get it off anyway. I made sure of that." After Balaur's tendency to pilfer shiny things sent Bucky frantically searching through all his usual hiding places four times in one month, Bucky had welded the band to his finger, making sure it would never be stolen and hidden from him again. Balaur squawked and flitted away to his habitat in the corner of the living room. Bucky settled in the opposite corner, where a computer display was set into the wall. Getting his phone out of his pocket, he opened up his contacts and took a deep breath before typing and sending his message.

 _Have time for a video call? Urgent._ He set the phone down carefully and tried not to stare at it. Responses didn't always come right away and being impatient always made the time go by more slowly. To distract himself, he pulled up the files he had on Viper. Today was not his first encounter with her, not by a long shot. The others would have to know what he knew, but it meant delving into some of his darker memories, and he needed a few minutes to gather his strength. He was missing Nyssa keenly in the moment. She never failed to know what he needed when his mind turned to darker places, whether it was aggressive cheering up, simply to be held, quiet support or purely to hold space and give him room to process. With her gone, the apartment was too big and too quiet, with strange silences and echoes, the whir of the refrigerator and other appliances the only break in the stillness. Breathing out an oath, he pulled up a music player and started a playlist to keep him company. He needed an anchor to keep him from drifting out too far in the storm of his own thoughts. A chime drew his attention back to his phone, and he picked it up.

 _I'm here. Call anytime._ Taking a deep breath, Bucky placed the call. It wasn't long before it was picked up on the other end. Steve's blond hair had turned nearly white, and his skin dark from hours out in the sun. In the background, his quarters aboard _Sanctuary_ were mostly in order, but in the shadows behind him, his easel was set up, a half-finished painting resting on its frame.

"What's up, Buck?" Steve asked, then half-smiled. "Or should I call you Captain America?" Bucky snorted.

"Kind of have a situation here, Steve," he said quietly. "HYDRA is trying to make a comeback, and they're not pulling any punches. I know you're still Mayor of _Sanctuary_ , but I could really use your help on this one." Steve looked surprised.

"I'm sure the Avengers are up to the task," he protested. "Last I heard, you were doing a great job as Captain America." Bucky let himself smile a little at the compliment, but then it faded.

"I might not be the right person to take the lead on this one," he admitted. "HYDRA's new leader is a woman who calls herself Viper. We have… history." Steve looked at him sharply.

"What kind of history?" he asked. Bucky sighed.

"I… or rather, the Winter Soldier…ran several missions for her. A couple decades ago. It wasn't unusual for my handlers to lend me out to allies every so often. She worked closely with me for months."

"Seems to me that would make you more qualified to lead the team against her, not less," Steve observed, then frowned slightly. "Unless you had feelings for her or something…" Bucky shook his head emphatically.

"The only feelings I have towards her are loathing and burning hatred," he growled. "She is cruel for the sake of cruelty. She wants power, and she will stop at nothing to get it. I thought she was killed at the tail end of my last mission with her. I was so convinced, I didn't recognize her right away. Apparently, though, she survived." He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "So you can see where I have trouble being objective. If I'm being honest, I'd rather kill her and all her minions. She needs to be stopped, but I don't want to sully the name of Captain America by going on a killing spree. I don't trust my judgement on this one." Steve nodded slowly.

"I guess I can see where you'd be concerned. But you don't do that anymore, Buck. I know you'll make the right call," he assured his friend. Bucky grimaced.

"That's not all," he admitted. "Viper's specialty is poison, and…. Nyssa nearly died. We froze her in time, but unless we can find a way to reverse the effects of the poison, she still might." Steve's eyes widened.

"I can be there in eighteen hours."

* * *

Bucky spent the next hour reviewing his notes, until his growling stomach reminded him that he hadn't eaten since dinnertime the night before. Standing up, he prowled to the kitchen and grabbed some protein bars out of the cupboard. Balaur chirred and flew over, landing on Bucky's head and trying to swipe at the food in his hand. Bucky tucked the still-wrapped bars into his pocket and crossed the room to the refrigerator, where he got the Tupperware container of turkey and chicken giblets out. Balaur screed happily and swooped down, grasping a liver and a kidney in his talons before soaring back to his habitat and disappearing into the makeshift cave. Bucky shook his head with a smirk as he replaced the raw meat and then washed his hands before pulling the protein bars out of his pocket. Nyssa wouldn't approve of him eating them for a meal; she usually insisted on having actual food whenever they had time for it. But he was not feeling up to preparing something, especially just for himself. His gaze landed on the container they kept dog food in, and he remembered that, while Nyssa was frozen and didn't need to eat, there was someone else who still did.

* * *

He exited the elevator onto the twelfth floor and slowly made his way to Nyssa's cryochamber. Darshan was still stretched out in vigil on the floor. Bucky placed the dog's dish full of food on the floor beside him. The canine sniffed it but turned his head away. Bucky sighed and sat down on the floor beside him, running his hand through the dog's dark coat.

"I know, buddy. I know," he said softly. Darshan whined faintly. Bucky tipped his head back and looked directly at Nyssa through the glass. Her eyes were closed, her face relaxed. He could almost pretend she was just sleeping, except for the fact that usually he could feel her presence even when she was asleep. Soft footsteps alerted him that he was not alone in the room anymore.

"It seems so odd to not feel her here," Wanda commented as she came up beside him. He looked up at her.

"It's strange, being on this side of it for once," he admitted. "I don't know if it makes it better or worse that I know what it's like in there." Wanda turned luminous eyes alight with interest on him.

"What is it like?" she asked. He pondered the best way to describe it and shook his head slightly.

"Like death, only not," he pronounced reflectively. "No dreaming, no thinking, no feeling. Not truly dead, but not truly alive, either." Wanda grunted slightly as she lowered herself to the floor next to him. She squeezed his shoulder comfortingly.

"We'll get her back, Bucky," she said. "If anyone can figure out how to cure her, we can." Bucky did not reply. He couldn't bring himself to put into words the dread that had settled into the pit of his stomach, or how he was bracing for the worst even while a part of him still hoped for the best. Wanda dropped her hand from his shoulder and rested it on her swollen abdomen. "I've been meaning to ask you… I've noticed that you have been giving me less and less challenging missions the past few months. You're not giving me fluff assignments because of this, are you?" Bucky raised his eyebrows at her.

"I don't consider being liaison between police and media a fluff assignment, no. Or by challenging, do you mean life threatening? Because I will admit to that. I don't see any reason to put two lives at risk unnecessarily when we have other options," he replied.

"I don't need protecting," she protested. "I can handle myself just fine, pregnant or not."

"I know that," Bucky assured her. "I'm not questioning your competence."

"Aren't you?" she challenged him. Bucky pondered her a moment. It seemed so obvious and automatic to him to protect the most vulnerable, and a pregnant woman definitely fell into that category. But technically, Nyssa did too, and he let her have wide latitude on missions – mostly at her insistence.

"Do you want to go on dangerous missions that put your life at risk?" he asked bluntly. Wanda's insistent expression faltered.

"I mean, given the right circumstances, as long as I'm the best person for the job…." She pondered awhile longer. "I guess I just need to know that I'm not seen as lesser or weaker just because I'm going to be a mother." Bucky scoffed.

"Wanda, nobody sees you as weak," he assured her. "You still might be the most powerful one of us all."

"Good," she grinned. "And you should use me as much as you can now, because once the baby comes, I might not be so readily available for missions." Bucky chuckled and nodded acknowledgement.

"Though if it's all the same to you, I'd like to try to avoid getting anyone else poisoned," he said dryly. Wanda nodded soberly, looking back up at Nyssa.

"Agreed," she sighed.

* * *

 **Thanks to karina001, DarylDixon'sLover and Qweb for the reviews! I hope you are all enjoying this story as much as the last one.**


	5. Poison Control

**Just for fun, not for profit. Most characters are property of Marvel. I'm just borrowing them for a bit.**

* * *

 **Poison Control**

They filed back into the lab at noon, as Bucky had directed. Tony and Bruce were looking at the displays with their backs to them. Bruce had one hand over his mouth, his elbow resting on his other arm folded over his chest. Tony was pointing to one screen showing the molecular structure of… something. Both their faces were grim. They didn't turn immediately as the others arrived.

"…genius, really," Tony was saying. "Makes it completely undetectable. Flavorless, odorless, colorless. They don't know until they start feeling sick, and by then it's too late."

"You have something to report?" Bucky said from behind them, making an effort to keep his tone even and calm. Both scientists turned around, surprise on their faces that they suddenly had company. Dr. Banner cleared his throat.

"We think we've isolated the compound that poisoned Nyssa. It's an aconitine derivative, altered slightly to make it undetectable," he explained. Bucky brightened.

"Well, we know what it is. That's good progress. So, what's the antidote?" he asked. Tony and Bruce exchanged uncomfortable glances.

"There's no known antidote," Tony said flatly. Bucky raised his eyebrows.

"What?"

"Aconitine kills by interfering with electrical activity in the heart, causing cardiac and pulmonary paralysis. Death appears to be by asphyxiation, unless you know there's poison involved. Current medical treatment consists of supportive chemical therapies to help the heart re-regulate. There's been limited success with cardiopulmonary bypass or charcoal hemoperfusion," Bruce explained, his tone stiff as he hid his emotions behind the technical language. He shook his head. "She wasn't responding to the atropine before she went into cryo, so we might already be past the point where it could help her. And we don't have that kind of setup here anyway." Bucky's heart sank.

"But what we do have, are the brightest minds this side of the universe," Tony interjected. "So we will come up with something. Just need a little more time."

"Okay." Bucky tried to swallow down his fear and focus on the mission instead. "Have you figured out the other poisons?" Bruce nodded.

"We've identified an amatoxin, batrachotoxin, tetrodotoxin, and one that is a blend of strychnine and cyanide," he recounted, counting them off on his fingers. "They're all chemically modified to remove any identifying smell or taste and to be invisible in water. But they are no less deadly." Bucky eyed the deceptively innocent-looking vials in the rack on the table.

"So we know what we're facing, at least. What did the information she downloaded give us?" he asked. Natasha stepped forward.

"As best as we can tell, they're batch numbers and coordinates." She glanced towards the ceiling. "Friday, give me a map of the city and highlight the locations we got from the widget." The largest viewscreen in the room suddenly lit up with a map of the city, and biohazard symbols marked several dozen locations across the metropolis. Vision floated upwards, closer to the map.

"A dozen bottles were delivered to the Statue of Liberty, which correlates with the first poisonings. Two dozen dropped off at a watering station for the marathon. Five dozen at the hotel that was hosting the class reunion," he narrated, pointing at the sites as he referenced them. "None of them indicate a time frame, so it's impossible to say whether the bottles have been delivered to these other sites or not. The sites are several hotels, Madison Square Garden, Yankee Stadium, Javits Center, and a number of groceries and convenience stores. All told, nearly fifty thousand poisoned water bottles either have been or will be dispersed throughout the city."

"The NYPD are holding a press conference this afternoon to warn the public about the water bottles, and asked Wanda and I to be there," Sam informed them. "They agreed the best course of action is to have all the bottled water in the city pulled from the shelves. They'll be setting up a collection at the police stations for people to drop off water bottles that have already been purchased. Nobody's going to be drinking out of water bottles for a while."

"There were a few locations that didn't seem to correlate with the others," Natasha added. "They aren't retail locations, or any place that someone would go to look for water. There's an abandoned warehouse, a parking lot, a playground…" She paused, grimacing slightly at the thought of someone handing out poisoned water to children. "…a mechanic's shop, and a high school."

"Nat, get a list of all those locations to Sam and Wanda, so they can have the police make sure there aren't any bottles missed there," Bucky directed. She nodded and gestured to Clint to come and help her with the task. The two exited. Sam and Wanda followed, and slowly the rest of the group dispersed. Bucky turned his attention back to Tony and Bruce. "What ideas do you have for counteracting the poison?"

"Aside from building a cardiopulmonary bypass or a hemoperfusion machine?" Tony asked. "Ah… well, nothing, really. Biology is only my fifth strongest subject."

"How long would it take you to build one of those?" Bucky asked. Tony shrugged.

"Two, three days tops," he vowed. Bucky grimaced slightly.

"I was kind of hoping we could have something to offer the hospitals to help with anyone who might still be affected by this," he said quietly. "Dr. Banner, do you have anything?" Bruce ran a hand through his tousled hair.

"Um, not really." He shook his head, his expression pained. "I wish I did. I'm not that kind of doctor."

"Okay. So who else could we ask?" Bucky asked. Tony and Bruce exchanged speculative looks.

* * *

Shuri's visage appeared on the viewscreen, somewhat sleepy and slightly annoyed.

"I trust you have a good reason for calling me in the middle of the night?" she said archly, covering her mouth as a yawn crept out.

"We were hoping you could brainstorm with us," Bruce told her. "We are trying to figure out a way to counteract a poison that has no antidote."

"Someone has already been poisoned?" Shuri asked thoughtfully. Bucky cleared his throat.

"Many have been poisoned," he said roughly. "Many have died. Nyssa hasn't yet. I want to keep it that way." Shuri's eyebrows rose.

"I understand the urgency," she said, and her expression turned thoughtful. "You want to remove the poison from the body, correct?"

"That should work, yes," Tony replied. Shuri nodded.

"What technology do you have available?" she queried.

"Pretty much anything you can think of, I either have or can make," Tony said proudly. Shuri raised an eyebrow at him.

"Oh, really?" She asked. "Do you have fabric that can project energy shields that will repel any attack?" Tony frowned, unsure what that had to do with their query.

"Ah, no," he admitted.

"Do you have suits that can absorb kinetic energy and turn it into amplified attacks?"

"Not yet, but I'm sure I could come up with something…."

"Do you have cloaking technology that renders anything you want, even an entire country, invisible, even to the naked eye?" she asked. Tony snorted.

"That doesn't actually exist anywhere," he protested. Shuri smirked at him. Bruce and Bucky exchanged looks.

"As much as I'm enjoying the one-upmanship, Shuri, can we get back to the task at hand?" Bucky asked stiffly. Shuri's expression grew more serious, and she inclined her head towards him.

"Do you have nanotech?" she asked after a moment.

"Yes!" Tony said triumphantly. "That, I do have." Shuri grinned.

"Could you program nanites to target and isolate the poison molecules in the bloodstream and the tissues?" she asked. "I could walk you through the process…."

"No, that won't be necessary," Tony growled. "I can manage that."

"Good," Shuri said with a yawn. "Then I can go back to sleep."

* * *

Tony and Bruce worked for the next several hours, programming the nanites. Since they had already isolated the poisons they were looking for, it was a matter of teaching the microscopic robots to recognize and destroy the deadly molecules. Bucky took advantage of the break to take Darshan for a walk. The dog balked and refused to move at first, but eventually, he coaxed him outside. Darshan found a tree to do his business, then nearly pulled Bucky over in his rush to get back to his post at the base of Nyssa's cryochamber, the untouched bowl of food still on the floor next to him.

"Sir," Friday's voice came hesitantly overhead. "Mr. Taylor has arrived." Bucky's heart sank. Since he couldn't do anything about Nyssa's situation yet, he was trying to do everything in his power not to think about it. Having to explain to his honorary father-in-law why his wife was in suspended animation inches from death was not exactly conducive to that.

"How did he find out?" he muttered, mostly to himself.

"I believe Ms. Maximoff notified him, as per Dr. Taylor's wishes," Friday answered him. Bucky didn't have time to ask more questions or speculate, as the grey-haired man burst onto the medical floor, his face contorted in concern.

"Where is she? How is she? What happened?" Elijah demanded. Bucky took a deep breath and glanced at the chamber that held Nyssa's still form.

"She was poisoned," he said shortly. "She's in cryosleep for now, until we can figure out how to reverse the effects. We think we're getting close." Elijah stepped in front of the clear window built into the chamber, reflexively reaching for her before drawing his hand back. He bowed his head, closing his eyes for a moment as he visibly struggled for control. Darshan raised his head to look at Elijah, and his tail thumped twice, then lay still again as the dog put his head back down.

"Please live. I just got you back…" The whisper was barely audible, and Bucky knew it wasn't meant for his ears. He stared at the floor and tried to ignore how his eyes were burning. Elijah glanced over at him, a single tear trickling down his weathered face. "You must think me a foolish old man," he said bitterly. Bucky slowly shook his head.

"No, sir," he denied. "I know exactly how you feel."

"The two of you, you're all I have left," Elijah admitted. Bucky reached out and squeezed his shoulder comfortingly.

"I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure she comes back to us," he assured the other man, trying to ignore how his voice quavered at the end of the statement. Elijah nodded, looking as if he wanted to say more, but remained silent. The two men stood mutely together, the only sound in the room the low hum coming from Nyssa's cryochamber, the air heavy with unspoken emotions. Bucky found his vision obscured as he looked at her face, so he blinked the tears away and dropped his gaze to the reassuring green lights on the control panel instead. After a time, he cleared his throat.

"Ah, I'm going to go check on her cure," he commented into the stillness. Elijah nodded.

"If it's all the same to you, I'll stay with her," he replied. Bucky nodded, then left. It did make him feel slightly better that she had both Elijah and Darshan to keep her company, even though she would be unaware of it.

* * *

When he returned to the lab, Tony and Bruce were arguing.

"It's too risky," Tony protested.

"It's not risky at all," Bruce contradicted him. "It's not going to kill me. The riskiest part is going to be making sure you get the nanoscrubbers injected before the other guy shows up."

"At which point, he tears my lab apart," Tony pointed out. "Like I said, too risky."

"As risky as injecting untested nanobots into a dying woman?" Bruce countered. "Do I have to remind you what happened the last time we collaborated on a robotics project?" Tony gave him a withering look. "Tony, how sure are you that these are going to work exactly the way we want them to?"

"One hundred percent," Tony avowed. Bruce gave him a hard look.

"We both know nothing's ever one hundred percent," he pointed out.

"Fine, ninety-nine percent." Bruce raised an eyebrow. Tony sighed. "Okay, no bullshit. Eighty-seven and a half percent sure." Bruce grinned briefly.

"All right. Good enough for me." Moving quickly before anyone could stop him, he picked up one of the vials of poison and downed it in one gulp. Tony's eyes bugged out of his head.

"What the hell, Banner!?" he yelped. The vial dropped from Bruce's nerveless hand, shattering on the floor of the lab, and the man followed suit, his body first slumping to the floor, then starting to convulse. His skin was beginning to turn a suspicious shade of green. Bucky, who had frozen in shock at first at the physicist's rash move, darted across the room to clear the floor from anything that could injure him. He caught and held a thrashing arm just as it was about to hit him in the head.

"Tony!" he prompted desperately. The Stark heir was suddenly galvanized into action. Turning around, he grabbed a syringe full of a black substance off the lab table.

"Roll him on his back," Tony instructed. Bucky pushed on Banner's shoulder, rolling him into position, and held him down while his body shook. The skin under his fingers felt as if it were itself alive, beginning to ripple and change as its hue turned decidedly more olive. Tony shook his head and aimed the syringe for the middle of Banner's chest. "Banner, if you live through this, I'm going to kill you," he muttered, then stabbed the needle into the physicist's heart, depressing the plunger to inject the writhing black mass into his circulatory system. Bruce continued to shake and writhe on the floor for several minutes, the sounds escaping his throat not quite human. His arm bulged, then returned to normal size. His face grew and contorted, then shrank and returned to normal. His torso grew, then dwindled to his original size. Slowly, the shaking subsided, and Bruce lay quietly on the lab floor. He opened his eyes and looked up at the two faces peering down at him. Bucky's was concerned but hopeful. Tony's was furious.

"I think it worked," Bruce announced meekly.

"Yeah, well, I'm going to find a different lab partner next time," Tony snapped. Bruce didn't look sorry at the prospect. "And I'm going to tell Nat about this little stunt," he announced, pointing his finger at the man on the floor. Bruce looked horrified.

"Please don't," he said shakily.

"Dr. Banner, how are you feeling?" Bucky asked. Bruce's expression grew thoughtful.

"I don't feel much different," he replied meditatively. "Except I'm really, really tired."

"How much of the success do you think was due to, ah, the other guy?" Bucky's next question was phrased very carefully. Nyssa didn't have an overprotective alter ego to turn her invincible, or they wouldn't be in this predicament in the first place. It was possible that this imprudent experiment was useless.

"I don't know," Bruce admitted sheepishly. "I thought I kept him in check pretty well." Tony snorted derisively. "Hey, did I break anything? No. And he didn't come out this time." Bruce unsteadily climbed to his feet, sagging slightly against the table. Bucky stood up as well.

"Well, Tony," Bucky said slowly, looking over at the genius engineer expectantly. "What do you think? Are we ready to try it?"

"If you give me about half an hour to program a new batch, since all the ones we had ready are currently inside that idiot over there," Tony gestured vaguely towards Bruce, refusing to look at the other scientist. Bruce looked sheepish. "Then yes."

"Do you think… this will save her?" Bucky asked levelly. Tony paused, his angry expression mitigated with sympathy.

"I think it's the best chance she's got," he answered honestly. Bucky nodded thoughtfully.

"Okay. Let's do it."

* * *

An hour later, everyone was gathered back in the medical wing, anxiously waiting to see if this gamble would pay off. Natasha was perched on a stool in the background, a far enough distance away to be out from underfoot but still see what was going on. Clint leaned against a table near her, arms folded over his chest. Wanda and Vision stood closer to the wall. Scott hung closer to the doorway. Elijah was holding onto Darshan's harness and seated in a chair. Bruce had gone to lay down, promising to be back before the excitement started but insisting he just needed a little rest. Bucky suspected that he was trying to avoid facing Natasha when Tony informed her of the impromptu poisoning. Tony, Bucky and Sam were all gathered around Nyssa's cryochamber. The atmosphere was tense and silent. Bucky started the cycle that would hopefully bring Nyssa back to consciousness. Sam opened the chamber as soon as it was safe to do so and began applying electrodes to monitor her heart rate. Nothing happened at first, but as her body approached the threshold, a quiet beep came from the EKG machine, and the monitor traced the electrical spike from her heart. Sam looked relieved, then concerned as the heart pattern traced out on the screen.

"What is it?" Bucky asked. Sam shook his head.

"She's still brady… Sorry, I mean her heart rate is way too slow," he explained. "Fingers crossed it speeds up as she warms up." Bucky hid his metal hand behind his back and crossed his fingers. He definitely wasn't superstitious, but it wasn't like it could hurt anything. Right? Sam looked over at Tony. "Ready for the nanites." Tony nodded and handed a small syringe to Sam. Since they had had time to prepare, these were not going to be injected directly into her heart, but into the intravenous access that was still in place in her arm. Sam administered the nanoscrubbers, then turned to monitor the heart pattern. The beeping of the machine grew slower and slower, with long moments in between, and he shook his head. "Going in the wrong direction," Sam groaned. The machine beeped one more time, then let out a sustained tone as the heart pattern was replaced with a flat line. Growling an expletive, Sam tilted the chamber until Nyssa was lying flat on her back, then put both hands on her chest and began pressing on it rhythmically. There was a loud crack of ribs cracking, and Bucky flinched at the noise. Wanda gasped, tears starting down her face, and hid her face against Vision's shoulder. Darshan whimpered, and Elijah looked like he wasn't sure whether to be sick or cry.

Sam continued to work methodically, sweat beginning to pour down his face. Clint stepped over to the other side of Nyssa's unresponsive body.

"Need a break?" he asked. Sam nodded and stepped back, and Clint took over compressing her chest. Sam grabbed a mask and pressed it to Nyssa's face, forcing oxygen into lungs that didn't want to function.

"Do you need me to do anything?" Scott asked anxiously. "I could go get the AED." Sam shook his head.

"You can get it if you want something to do," he said, his tone frustrated. "But it won't do anything. It's meant to shock an ineffective rhythm back into sinus. Her heart is not functioning at all. She's got no electrical activity. No rhythm to shock."

"So what the hell are we doing here?" Bucky demanded, his voice thick. Sam looked at him grimly.

"Buying time. Hoping the nanites do their job. Praying for a miracle." He shook his head. "I don't know what else to do to get her heart to beat on its own, but I'm not ready to give up yet." His brow furrowed in thought. Suddenly, hope flickered across his face. "Bucky, here. Hold this mask like I am, give her a breath for every fifteen times Clint pushes on her chest." Bucky took over, doing his best to do exactly as he had observed Sam doing. "Wanda!" Sam called out. She looked up with red eyes and tear streaked face. "Do you know how a heart beats?" Her forehead wrinkled in confusion. She held up one hand and opened and closed her fingers in imitation. Sam shook his head and walked over to her. "No, like this." He took her hand and placed it on his chest, his heart beating rapidly under her palm. "Can you feel that pattern?" She looked startled, then stared intently at his chest. Red light suffused his torso, the same red glow reflected in her eyes. Slowly, she nodded. "You got it?" Sam pressed.

"Yes," Wanda replied.

"Good," Sam grunted. "Now make her heart do that." Wanda wiped the tears from her face and soberly walked over to the open cryochamber. Clint stepped back as she put her hand where his had been on Nyssa's sternum. Crimson light flooded the chamber as Wanda frowned in concentration. Sam grabbed a limp arm and checked at the wrist, nodding in satisfaction as he found a pulse. Nyssa's eyes opened suddenly, and Bucky was so startled, he dropped the mask. She began coughing, and relief flooded through him. He cupped her face in his hands.

"Oh, thank God," Elijah breathed. Sam frowned over at the heart monitor, which still showed a flat line.

"Keep it up, Wanda," he urged. "We have to keep perfusion going long enough for those nanoscrubbers to get rid of all the poison." She nodded distractedly, still focused on Nyssa's heart.

"What's… going on?" Nyssa wheezed. Bucky ran soothing fingers through her hair.

"You were poisoned, but we came up with a solution. You're going to be okay," he promised.

"Water bottles," was the next thing out of her mouth. He nodded.

"All the bottled water is going to be pulled off the shelves for public safety," he reassured her. She frowned and shook her head slightly.

"No… first phase…" Her voice was barely audible. She covered his hand against her cheek with her smaller one. His vision was suddenly obscured, Viper's voice echoing in his ears.

" _….A panic breaks out, people stop buying bottled water. That's when we go to phase two: poisoning the public water supply. The majority of the city will be wiped out overnight…"_ His vision cleared, and he swore silently to himself. They had played right into Viper's hand. At the moment, he was more concerned with the life in his hands at the moment. They could worry about saving the city once she was safe.

A beep came from the heart monitor, then another, and the flat line began spiking, tracing a reassuring pattern on the screen. Sam punched the air in triumph.

"Yes, that's what I like to see," he said encouragingly to nobody in particular. He watched the line spike up and down for a full minute. "Okay, Wanda. Stop for a minute and see what she does on her own." Wanda lifted her hand, her red-tinged power dissipating, but the pattern on the monitor continued. "And she's back. It worked." Sam high fived Tony. "Stark, you're a genius."

"I know," Tony responded. Bucky leaned forward, pressing his forehead to Nyssa's as the fear and dread melted out of him. The room was suddenly filled with whoops and cheers, cries of relief.

 _Are you okay? Are you hurting?_ Bucky sent the mental query in her direction, not trusting his voice.

 _Ribs are sore. Mostly just cold. And tired._ There was more strength behind her reply than he was expecting. She squeezed his hand comfortingly. He straightened up, waiting for the celebrating to die down before he was going to ruin the good mood. Eventually, the others quieted, looking at him in anticipation. He cleared his throat, dislodging the grief, uncertainty, fear and relief that had layered there over the course of the day.

"Thank you, everyone. I owe you all a debt I can never repay. But we still have bigger problems to solve. Friday," he called out, "can you show us that map again? The one with the coordinates that don't correspond to retail locations." The others were giving him strange looks, but he ignored them. They would understand soon enough. The map he requested showed on the largest viewscreen in the room, the locations marked with biohazard symbols. He nodded. "Now, superimpose a schematic of the city's water supply." Blue pipes appeared over the map, and there was a collective gasp in the room. Each of the locations corresponded to a major junction or aqueduct. Bucky shook his head. "We weren't looking deep enough. We assumed the coordinates were at ground level. They're not. Viper plans to release the poison directly into the city's water supply."

"She's going to poison the whole damn city," Natasha's eyes were wide, her tone hushed. Bucky squared his shoulders and shook his head.

"Not if we stop her first."

* * *

 **Thanks to karina001, DarylDixon'sLover, NotMarge and Qweb for your feedback! I hope you guys are enjoying reading the chapter as much as I am writing it!**


	6. Centenarian SerumEnhanced Super Soldiers

**Disclaimer: Just for fun, not for profit! Most characters are property of Marvel, but a few are my own creation. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental.**

* * *

 **Centenarian Serum-Enhanced Super Soldiers**

Bucky took a deep breath, glancing around at his friends and teammates, all watching him expectantly, waiting for his plan to stop Viper. He nodded in response to an internal question and turned to face Tony.

"How long would it take you to program enough nanites for every hospital in the city to have a supply?" he asked the genius engineer. Tony raised his eyebrows and glanced at the ceiling, doing some internal calculations.

"Fifteen minutes per batch, but I can probably have four batches compiling at a time. Sixty two acute care hospitals in the city, so… just shy of four hours," Tony announced. Bucky shook his head.

"Too long," he decided. "We have to assume they have everything in place to poison the city's water already. Get as many ready as you can in one hour. We'll get them to the ten largest hospitals in the city and let emergency services know to take any suspected poisonings to one of those. Sam, I need your wings to get the nanites to the hospitals as fast as possible. The rest of us need to split up into five teams and disable or eliminate whatever mechanism they have set up to release the poison. We'll have to get to each location at roughly the same time, or they're going to figure out that we're onto them. Assume they're going to try to stop us. Assume whatever weapons they use are going to be poisoned. Team one, Dr. Banner and Agent Romanov." He pointed at a still-sleepy looking and startled Bruce, who had just rejoined the group. "Team two, Tony and Clint. Team three, Vision and Scott. Team four will be myself and…" His voice trailed off as a new figure appeared in the doorway, suddenly flanked by two smaller figures. "Steve, you made better time than I expected." Everyone in the room turned to see Steve standing in the doorway with two blonde, blue-eyed beauties beside him. Bucky caught the questioning looks that Natasha and Sam sent his way.

"It sounded like time was of the essence," Steve replied. He glanced at the women beside him. "You remember Maren and Lina?" he asked. Bucky nodded. "You mentioned poison. I thought they could help. And they were excited to see you again." The two women wiggled gloved fingers at Bucky in greeting, brilliant smiles outlined in crimson lipstick. Bucky half-grinned and nodded towards them.

"Well, hello ladies," Scott said, moving closer and looking the beautiful ladies over speculatively.

"Careful, Scott," Bucky warned with a smirk. "One touch or kiss from either of them is enough to kill a man. Side effect of their particular brand of poison immunity." Scott's eyes widened, and he backed away slowly. Maren blew him a kiss, while Lina waved with a brilliant, coy smile. Bucky looked around at the assembled Avengers. "I requested that Steve return to take over for this mission. Given my history with Viper, I wanted to be sure your leader could be objective. Steve, I believe this is yours." Bucky's foot found where he had set down the trademark shield, and he quickly kicked it up into his hands, then tossed it at Steve, who caught it.

"Well, welcome back, Cap," Natasha said with surprise. "So what's the plan?"

"I like his plan," Steve said, pointing at Bucky. "Friday briefed me on the way up. Team four, Bucky and Lina, and Maren and I will be the last team."

"Are you forgetting someone?" Wanda asked archly, shooting Bucky a significant look. He shook his head as he turned to face her.

"Wanda, your job is important, and only you can do it," Bucky said earnestly. "I need you to stay here and make sure Nyssa stays stable. If her heart fails again, you're the only one who can save her." Wanda looked at him sharply, as if trying to decide if he was feeding her a line of bullshit or not. After a moment, her face relaxed.

"I'll be sure to make her comfortable," she promised. Bucky gave her a grateful smile.

"Okay, Tony," Steve prompted. "Do you need any help with your cure?" Tony shook his head.

"No, Cap, I'm already starting on the first set," he said as he finished the final keystrokes on the workscreen in front of him. He looked up and raised his eyebrow. "Glad you finally decided to join us again."

"Here when you need me, Tony," Steve reminded him.

"So if he's Captain America again, what do we call you?" Natasha asked Bucky, who shrugged.

"I do have a name. Otherwise, 'Hey, Asshole' probably works," he quipped. Clint shook his head.

"Nah, that'll be too confusing for people. We won't know if they're talking to you, me or Tony," he pointed out.

"Nat, you and Clint need to be especially careful," Bucky said seriously. "You're the only ones without armor who are susceptible to poison. Stick to the shadows, and if you meet resistance, let your partners take the forefront." Nat tossed him a tongue-in-cheek salute. He shook his head and gave her a stern look. "We don't need any more poisonings today."

"Yessir," Natasha responded, her expression more serious this time. She looked at Bucky carefully, as if surprised that he was concerned for her welfare. Taking a breath, he turned and walked slowly over to the cryochamber where Nyssa was still resting. Her face was lined with exhaustion, but she turned towards him and reached up to touch his face as he bent low to kiss her.

"Kick some ass," she whispered, her lips twisted in an impish grin. "Save the city. Then come home." Her love wrapped around his awareness like a warm, soothing blanket, tinged ever-so-slightly with concern, given the circumstances.

"That's the plan," he murmured back. "I might be out late. Rest, don't wait up." He caressed her face one last time, nodded at Elijah, who was watching with a nostalgic expression, then went to go raid his weapons locker.

* * *

As soon as the others cleared out of the medical wing, Wanda crossed to the cryochamber and peeked down at Nyssa.

"How are you doing in there?" she asked softly. Nyssa smiled.

"It's not quite as comfy as my usual bed," she confessed. "Especially with cracked ribs."

"Well, let's see if I can't help you get more comfortable," Wanda said thoughtfully. Extending her hand, she wove her magic around Nyssa. She lifted her up gently and floated her slowly over to one of the medical beds on the main floor. At a gesture from Wanda, several pillows floated off the surrounding beds and drifted over to further cushion Nyssa's landing. The smaller woman grinned as she touched down on the well-padded bed and sighed as a blanket folded itself around her chilled body. Elijah watched the entire production with wide eyes, then sighed and shook his head.

"You'd think by now I wouldn't be amazed by anything you Avengers can do, but damned if you can't still surprise me," he commented. Darshan approached the bed cautiously. Nyssa let her arm hang over the side, and the dog sniffed it, then nudged it with his nose. Nyssa rubbed his nose affectionately, then scratched behind his ears. Darshan's ears perked up, and an electric wriggle ran down his spine. He jumped up, putting his front paws on the edge of her bed, and sniffed her thoroughly. She chuckled and rubbed his neck affectionately.

"Good boy," she murmured. "Have you been waiting all this time for me? I'm okay, I promise." He gave her a final sniff, then dropped back down on all fours. Tail wagging, he trotted over to his still-full bowl on the floor and began devouring his kibble. Elijah chuckled and walked over to Nyssa's bedside, but she was already asleep.

* * *

Bucky did his best to appear nonchalant as he strolled down the street, Lina's arm linked through his metal one. Lina was most lethal with skin to skin contact; the layers of clothing and metal meant they could appear like a normal couple without putting Bucky's life in danger.

" _So, what have you been up to since you left Sanctuary?"_ she asked. Bucky frowned slightly as his brain worked on the translation; his Norwegian was somewhat rusty. She smiled coyly at him. " _Things haven't been the same since you left the ship._ " He raised an eyebrow at her.

" _Steve isn't enough amusement for you?"_ he teased. Maren and Lina enjoyed flirting shamelessly with most of the residents on the ship. It was well understood that it could never be more than verbal, so after the initial shock Bucky had enjoyed the practice. Lina chuckled.

 _"Steve is not much of a challenge,"_ she scoffed. " _He blushes too easily."_

 _"Even after all this time?"_ Bucky replied in mock disbelief.

" _Well, he is not as worldly as you,"_ Lina pointed out. Bucky chuckled.

" _True, but I'm not sure that's a compliment,"_ he replied.

" _It is,"_ Lina assured him. " _Maren and I often speculated that you would be quite the adventurous lover. Perhaps you could settle an argument between us. Are you more of a lace and lingerie man, or do you prefer leather, whips and chains?"_ He glanced at her, eyebrow raised.

" _Wouldn't you like to know,"_ he replied evasively. She smirked at him.

" _That is why I asked. If you're not comfortable answering, I will accept a demonstration at a later date,"_ she purred. He was glad for the darkness, as he could feel his cheeks growing warm and hoped it wasn't too obvious. She would never let him hear the end of it if she knew she had finally made him blush.

" _Tread carefully, Lina,"_ he warned. " _I am a married man now."_ Her eyes widened slightly.

 _"That's right, Steve did mention that,"_ she said thoughtfully, then shrugged. " _I can just ask her, then."_ Bucky chuckled as he imagined Lina having that conversation with Nyssa.

" _Only if you promise I can be there for that discussion,"_ he decided. For once, Lina might be the one who ended up blushing. She sighed as if he had put a great burden on her.

" _Very well,"_ she groaned exaggeratedly, then smiled flirtatiously. "So, _when do I get to meet your lovely, lucky girl?"_ He raised an eyebrow at her. Historically, Lina hadn't only flirted with the men.

 _"Do I need to be worried?"_ he asked sardonically. Lina giggled.

" _Don't worry, I wasn't planning on touching or kissing her,"_ she replied with a playful smile, which faded slightly after a moment. " _I know better than to make physical contact."_ The sad tinge to her words made Bucky reflect on the restrictions that came with her powers. Was full immunity to poison worth not being able to touch another being without harming them?

" _I'm sorry_ ," he said quietly. " _That's not what I meant, but it can't be easy, never being able to… touch anyone else_." She looked over at him, her expression both wistful and sad.

" _It really isn't_ ," she sighed. Then the twinkle crept back into her eyes. " _But it's not completely true. I can touch Maren. And I do._ " Her expression made clear exactly the kind of touch she was referring to. Bucky cleared his throat and checked their coordinates. Scanning the ground, he found the nearest manhole cover. Bending down, he moved it aside, frowning down at the damp darkness below. Lina wrinkled her nose at the smell. With a smirk, Bucky bowed in her direction.

" _That concludes the above-ground portion of our evening stroll, madam,"_ he said, gesturing down towards the sewers with a flourish. " _Ladies first."_ Lina groaned.

" _Aren't you the gentleman,"_ she grumbled, but obediently climbed in. Bucky offered his metal hand for her to hold onto for stability as she found her footing and descended below. He followed close behind, unholstering his firearm as soon as his feet hit the ground, all senses attuned to any sign of an ambush. This is where he was still most comfortable, in the shadows with a gun in his hand. The Captain America uniform, while tailored to his body, never fit completely comfortably. He was happy to wear it to give Steve the time he needed, and it wasn't without its perks, but he was always well aware of the added weight the name carried, and the shield, while amazingly versatile, was not the same as the assault weapons he had grown used to working with. The revolver in his hand was comforting and familiar. In his other hand, he held a flashlight up just above shoulder height, illuminating the path in front of them. Lina kept her flashlight focused mostly on what was ahead of her feet.

The walkways on either side of the river of sewage were only wide enough for them to walk single file. Lina picked her way disdainfully along the boards, Bucky trailing behind, constantly searching the vicinity for signs of a threat. There wasn't much noise down here beyond their footsteps and the sound of flowing water. Over their heads, three-inch metal pipe ran along the top of the underground tunnel. Bucky included them in his constant scanning, looking for anything that seemed out of place or too new along the aging metal pipeline. Lina moved her light around hesitantly.

" _I have heard things about the sewers in New York,"_ she recalled. " _Do we need to be worried about anything unusual? Like alligators, or mutant turtles?"_ Bucky chuckled.

" _No,"_ he reassured her. Then a mischievous twinkle glinted in his eye. " _I'm pretty sure they're dormant this time of year. There are probably rats, though."_ She glanced over her shoulder at him with a frown. Before she could respond, their headsets crackled to life, and Tony's voice came through loud and clear.

"Looks like I win the prize for this scavenger hunt," he announced. "We're looking for a small, black, device that wraps completely around the water pipe. It's got a transceiver on it… that's what those blue and green blinking lights are, Cap."

"I know what a transceiver is, Tony," Steve returned, his tone resigned and tolerant. "I think I see mine. So how do we remove it?" There was a pause, and Tony exhaled in frustration.

"I'm still working that out. The metals are interfering with my scanners, but from what I can tell, it's magnetically sealed in place over the hole they drilled to place it. The explosive and the poison are both inside the pipe. It's not a very powerful bomb, but it doesn't have to be to break the glass and release the poison. I'm not sure, but I think if I – "

"Sir," Vision's mild tenor broke into the conversation. "I would encourage you not to tamper with the device until everyone is in position. The transceivers are receiving positive feedback from each of the others. I believe they are networked so that if any one of them ceases to transmit, it sets off a chain reaction that activates the rest."

"So we have to each remove all of them at the same time, or they could all go off," Bruce concluded out loud. Bucky swore loudly in Russian.

"Hey, Barnes, watch that language. Cap doesn't like it," Natasha said reprovingly.

"Really, Nat?" Steve said in exasperation. "It's been seven years, we can't let that one rest? I didn't even understand what he said."

"Well, if you did, I'm sure you would have been offended," she replied unapologetically.

"Can we focus?" Steve sighed over the comm. "Vision, how much time do we have to once the first one is removed? Two minutes? Thirty seconds?"

"They appear to be sending signals every five seconds," the sapient construct replied. "So I believe that is our window, assuming our timing is optimal. However, I can attempt to mimic the signals for a time to improve our chances."

"That's a good plan," Steve said approvingly. "Anyone have any ideas on how to remove them?"

"EMP should be able to disrupt the magnetic field long enough to remove it. Might also set it off," Tony suggested helpfully.

"I left my EMP in my other pants anyway," Bruce interjected sarcastically. Bucky finally found the explosive that he and Lina had been searching for. It was cuffed around a section of the water main running along the top of the tunnel, several feet over their heads. He was not a short man, but he would not be able to reach it easily. The others were still discussing the best way to disarm and remove the devices, but he tuned them out for the moment so he could think. He quickly scanned the general vicinity and spotted a maintenance ladder set into the side of the tunnel roughly fifty meters down. At the top of the ladder, he spotted a wheel shut-off valve running along the same pipe. He turned back towards Lina, who had turned and was standing with her back to the wall, flashlight flicking back and forth on the sewer floor as she searched apprehensively for rats.

"Cover me," he instructed her. "I'm climbing up there. I'm sure once we start messing with their equipment, HYDRA is going to show up to stop us." She nodded and pulled out a pistol, aiming it into the darkness beyond the reach of her flashlight. Bucky climbed up the ladder and quickly turned the shut-off to stop the water from flowing. He then reached up and grasped the pipe, slowly shifting his weight to see if it would hold him. The aged pipes groaned, but held, and he began working his way hand over hand to the explosive down the line.

"…still think electromagnetic interferences is going to be our best bet, but we'll have to do it quickly," Tony was saying over the comm.

"So, do you have any ideas for those of us who don't have an EMP in our back pocket?" Steve countered.

"I found a shut-off valve a few meters away from mine," Bucky offered helpfully. "It doesn't solve the removal problem, but it should keep the poison from spreading as fast if it does go off." Working on maintenance issues aboard _Sanctuary_ had given him a few useful skills, at least. He braced his feet against the curved wall as he moved slowly and methodically to his target. He paused as he reached it and frowned up at the device. It was sleek and sealed tight, with no obvious wires or fuses. The design was familiar; he had used similar explosives during his time with HYDRA.

"I mean, I can totally shrink down and disable mine," Scott contributed, "but I don't think that's going to help anyone else."

"These are designed to be tamper-proof," Bucky reminded everyone. ""Anything we do could possibly set it off. It might be a better plan to just take the whole section down."

"Excuse me, Captain Barnes?" Vision sounded slightly confused, but Bucky was already on the move. He swung several meters down on the same pipe and hung from one arm while he attached an explosive to the pipe. Shifting his weight, he started traveling back the other direction.

"Shut the water off, then remove the section of pipe," Steve clarified. "That way, it doesn't matter if the poison is released. It's not going to get into the city."

"There's going to be an awful lot of people without water, then," Clint pointed out.

"Better without water for a day or two than everyone in the city poisoned," Steve replied. Bucky reached his second mark, a point equidistant from the poison bomb, and set his other explosive. He dropped down, landing lightly on his feet. Closing the distance between himself and Lina, he glanced upwards.

"Everyone else set?" he asked over the comm. The rest of the team made noncommittal noises. Bucky's eyes widened as the flickering lights on the HYDRA bomb suddenly shone steady green. "It's armed! Do it now!" he barked over the comm. He gestured frantically at Lina. "Down!" He commanded, and dove, his thumb depressing the detonator moments before he hit the water. Lina followed before she could think about exactly what she was doing. They both plunged into the river of raw sewage flowing below. The tunnel was suddenly filled with flame, first as Bucky's charges detonated, then a roar as the gasses in the air caught fire, turning the air above the water hot and yellow.

Bucky surfaced a minute later, after the fire had ceased. Lina emerged coughing and spluttering a few meters away. She panted for a moment before making a very loud noise of disgust. Bucky agreed, but there was no time to dwell on this now. The earpiece he wore was crackling in his ear, somewhat worse the wear for having been underwater.

"Hell… that?" Tony's voice sputtered. "….happened?"

"Trigger… signal… exter… source." Vision's response was barely audible. "…one knows… here… stop us." Bucky heaved himself out of the water, kneeling on the side of the tunnel for a moment before regaining his feet. He reached down as Lina swam to the side near him, helping her back to solid ground.

"Ugh!" she groaned, waving the sewage from her arms in revulsion. "If I had known I was going to be swimming in _dritt,_ I would not have worn this dress."

"Shhh," Bucky admonished. "Company." The sound of footsteps was beginning to echo closer to them. Weapon at ready, he crossed to where the section of pipe was now lying on the floor. One end was melted shut from the violent explosion. He shone his flashlight through the other side. A scorched ring marked where the explosive had been, and his light glinted off the liquid pooling in the bottom of it. He exhaled softly. The footsteps were growing louder, and now Lina was hearing them too. She had her pistol back out, looking warily in the direction they seemed to be coming from. Bucky gestured to Lina that they should get going. She nodded and hurried on, moving away from the sound of the approaching agents. There was another ladder a few hundred meters ahead that would lead them back up to the surface. The tunnel ahead of them curved, and they rounded the bed to see a long, dark stretch of sewer. The sound of those pursuing them was growing closer, and Bucky's pace quickened, Lina close behind him. The sounds bounced off the curved walls, making it sound like the footsteps were all around them. A metallic clang made Bucky hesitate. He pulled out his assault rifle, the one with the night vision scope, and peered through it to see a line of HYDRA agents descending the ladder to their level. Exhaling, he aimed for the one in the middle and pulled the trigger. The man jerked, then fell, his body dragging down the three men below him. Bucky shifted upwards and took out the one at the top. There were more muffled oaths, grunts and shouts of alarm as he crashed through the others trying to climb down the ladder. Lina began firing behind him, and he glanced around to see that the men who had been in pursuit were catching up to them. Motion from the other side of the sewer caught his attention, and he realized they were lining up across from them as well.

The man at the head of the column drew closer to Lina, and she fired three rounds at him, but he didn't seem phased. Lina reversed the handgun and drove the handle up into his chin, following that with a vicious kick. He toppled into the river of sewage, and Bucky chased him with a round or two of his ammunition. He didn't have time to see if it was effective or not, as the men across the water were firing at him. He deflected as much as he could with his metal arm, but felt a stray shot burn through his thigh. Lina cried out as the next man deflected her punch and grabbed her, pulling her in closer and putting a gun to her head.

"Hold fire!" he called out to his comrades, his eyes locking with Bucky's. "Surrender now, Soldier, or we'll kill this girl as well." Eyes wide, Lina shook her head at him. He noticed her pulling at the man's arm as if trying to get free but actually working her fingers between the edge of his sleeve and his glove, rubbing her fingertips along his skin. Slowly, Bucky raised his hands in the universal gesture of surrender. "Drop your weapon," the man instructed. Bucky moved as if stuck in a vat of molasses, but crouched down and placed the assault rifle carefully on the floor. The man coughed, and worked his jaw a moment before continuing. "Kick it into the water," he instructed, gesturing with the muzzle of his gun. Bucky put the toe of his combat boot against it and gave it a shove. It slid into the foul water with a splash that echoed off the stone walls of the sewer. The man grinned triumphantly, then blinked twice and cleared his throat again. Bucky smirked at him, hands still in the air.

"Starting to feel a little strange?" he asked. "Face hot and tingly, something stuck in your throat, eyes itching?" The man stared at Bucky, an expression of horror dawning on his face. He moved the gun he was holding to Lina's head, pointing it at Bucky instead.

"What did you do to me?" he demanded.

"I didn't do anything," Bucky replied. "You did it to yourself when you grabbed her." He nodded towards Lina. "Just one touch of her skin is poison. Soon, your throat will _close,_ you'll fight for _your_ last breath, and then your _eyes_ go dark." He looked significantly at Lina as he emphasized seemingly random words in his speech. Her eyes widened, and then she moved her head in a short, sharp nod to let him know she understood. He slowly lowered his hands to shoulder level, his fingers finding what he was looking for in a concealed pocket. "The longer you stay in contact with her, the more lethal she is," he concluded. The man suddenly pushed Lina violently away from his body, sending her sailing towards Bucky. Her eyes were squeezed shut as she grabbed onto his metal hand. He pulled the flashbang out of his shoulder pocket and threw it as hard as he could towards the ceiling, then sprinted towards the ladder. They reached it just as the grenade went off, and the dark tunnel was suddenly illuminated by ten million candlepower, accompanied by a 170-decibel thunderclap. Bucky pushed Lina up the ladder ahead of him, and she seemed slightly disoriented but managed to make her limbs work. They reached the surface seconds later, and stood in the relative quiet with ears still ringing.

* * *

By the time they rejoined the others, Bucky's hearing had returned to normal. Tony and Vision were both carrying their poison detonators, still intact, no pipes in sight. Bruce was looking a little worse for the wear, meekly changing into a clean shirt while Natasha slowly wound up the shredded remains of the shirt he had started with. Steve and Maren arrived moments after Bucky and Lina. Steve was carrying a short section of three-inch pipe slung over his shoulder, the center decorated with the HYDRA explosive.

"All right, report in," Steve said with a sigh. "Everyone get theirs disabled or removed in time?" There were slow, relieved nods all around, and everyone breathed a little easier. "Was everyone else attacked?" More nods. "Any major injuries to report?" A few exchanged glances, but ultimately everyone answered in the negative. "Vision, you said they were triggered by another signal from an external source." Vision nodded.

"That is correct, Captain."

"So somebody must have alerted them we were headed down to disable the charges," Steve mused, half to himself.

"But nobody knew we were going there," Natasha protested. "We didn't even know until this afternoon."

"That isn't completely true," Tony said, his face tight. "I alerted the water company that there was a possible issue with some of their pipes, and that we were going to be investigating." He shrugged as the others gave him looks of shock. "It seemed prudent, otherwise we're essentially vandalizing the city's water supply."

"It would make sense that HYDRA would have agents working for the water company, since the pipes were essential to their plan," Bucky realized. There were nods of agreement.

"So we still have to figure out who their agents are," Steve reflected out loud. "Tony, call the water company back, advise them that they'll need hazmat teams at locations one and four. Everyone else… good work. Crisis averted for now, and everybody made it back." Bucky took a deep breath. He was relieved they had all made it back, and looking forward to checking on Nyssa, but for the moment what he wanted most of all was a nice, hot shower.

* * *

 **Thanks to everyone who lele feedback on the last chapter, reviews are always appreciated! They make my heart happy. Hope you're all enjoying this so far!**


	7. Zombie Love

**Disclaimer: Just for fun, not for profit! Most characters are property of Marvel, but a few are my own creation. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental.**

* * *

 **Zombie Love**

Wanda ran a hand over her abdomen absently as she watched the numbers on the monitors. She was a little disappointed that she wasn't out with the others. Nyssa had been sleeping peacefully, and all the numbers on the monitors were steady. Elijah had taken Darshan for a walk, mumbling something about needing to clear his head. Wanda turned the radio on low, trying to relieve the boredom without waking Nyssa up. She felt a little twinge of guilt that the others were out there fighting and risking their lives to save the city, while she was sitting at home in the comfort of Avengers Tower. She shifted in her chair, trying to get comfortable, and was rewarded by a swift kick into her diaphragm. She grunted, then lay a hand on her abdomen and gently rotated the baby so its feet weren't pressed up in her ribs.

A commotion in the hallway drew her attention. The door to the medical suite opened as if by a ghost. Wanda stood up to see a shock of blond hair toddling into the room as fast as his little legs could carry him. A few moments later, an angry looking woman stormed in behind. Priscilla Giroux was a matronly and severe-looking woman. Whatever other qualifications she had, Wanda was fairly certain Pepper had hired her to be Aaron's nanny at least in part because she would not be appealing to Tony in any way. She was as grandmotherly as a drill sergeant.

"Come back here, you naughty boy!" she scolded in Gallic-accented English. She lunged at Aaron and caught him by the arm. He immediately shrieked as if she had struck him with a red-hot poker, twisted and collapsed, pulled his arm out of her grasp and crawled away from her as fast as he could, bawling loudly. Wanda cringed at the noise as Mme. Giroux scolded him loudly in French. He crawled underneath the bed Nyssa was resting in, and Wanda took a couple steps in that direction to intervene before they awakened the recovering woman. Before she could intercede, Nyssa was already up and standing next to the bed, her body blocking the Frenchwoman from reaching the toddler. Mme. Giroux scolded her, again in French, no doubt believing that the woman could not understand her. Nyssa responded in kind, her tone measured and even. Mme. Giroux's eyes widened, and she had the grace to look embarrassed. The two women argued, Nyssa maintaining her calm while the nanny waved her hands, pointed accusing fingers at the crying toddler hiding and rocking under the table, and ranted in French. She took a step to move around Nyssa to get at the boy, but Nyssa stepped to the side, blocking her again. Mme. Giroux threw her hands up in the air. "Fine!" she spat at Nyssa in English. "Then you can tell Monsieur Stark that I quit!" She turned and stormed out. The only sound left in the medical suite was Aaron's crying. Nyssa sat down on the floor next to the bed, half-turned towards Aaron, but didn't make any attempt to grab for the toddler. Instead, she began to sing softly. Aaron's sobs slowly quieted. Nyssa didn't move, but continued singing. Aaron crept closer to her, then lay down on the floor at her feet, his flushed cheek pressed against the cool floor. Nyssa reached out and lightly brushed his temple, then drew her hand back. She went from singing to humming, until the toddler was fast asleep. Still, she didn't move.

"Should we just leave him on the floor?" Wanda asked in a stage whisper. Nyssa shrugged.

"He doesn't want to be touched right now. Maybe when they get back, Tony can take him upstairs," she whispered back. Aaron sighed in his sleep and wrapped a little fist around her big toe.

* * *

Bucky stepped out of the shower, his skin still bright red from standing in the water turned up just a hair hotter than he generally could tolerate. He had nearly boiled his skin off, but at least now he felt somewhat clean again. He dried himself methodically, then took a look at the bullet wound in his thigh. The edges were already turning pink with newly healing skin, but judging by the size of it, it might be a couple days before it closed completely. He should probably throw some strong disinfectant and a bandage on it. He opened the medicine cabinet and frowned. The bandages left in the kit were not quite the right size – either too large or too small – and there was only a tiny dribble left of the disinfectant. He shook his head and shrugged. No matter. There were plenty of supplies in the medical suite, and he was headed there next. He glanced around the bathroom to make sure everything was as he wanted it before he left the room.

After getting dressed, he headed to the elevator. The doors slid open, but before he could get on, a frantic-eyed Tony stepped out, looking up and down the hallway.

"You haven't seen Aaron, have you?" he asked Bucky, who frowned.

"He's not with Pepper?" he responded. Tony shook his head.

"She's out of town at a conference. He's supposed to be with the nanny, but they're not in the nursery, not in his bedroom, not in my workshop... Friday, where is Madame Giroux?"

"Madame Giroux is not here," Friday replied. "She quit, sir." Tony's eyes widened.

"Then where the hell is my son?" he demanded.

"In the medical suite, sir." Tony looked like he might choke at her reply. Bucky touched his shoulder lightly.

"That's where I'm headed," he said levelly. Tony glanced at him and nodded, stepping into the small space with him and running a hand over his face.

"I just leave for a few hours, and the nanny quits, and Aaron's in medical," Tony mumbled, mostly to himself. "Friday, what – no, never mind. I'll find out when I get there." He half turned towards Bucky. "I mean, I know he's a handful. He's my son. But that's the fourth nanny in six months." He sighed. "And she came so highly recommended." Bucky nodded sympathetically.

"Hard to find good help these days," he noted. Tony exhaled as the elevator doors opened, and they both charged down the hall to the medical suite. They both walked through the entrance to see Sam standing with a grin, arms crossed over his chest. The lights were turned down low, and some quiet instrumental music was playing. Wanda was sitting in a chair over by where they had left Nyssa, but neither Nyssa or Aaron were in sight at first glance. With a frown. Bucky strode past the first row of beds to see Nyssa sitting cross-legged on the floor with a blanket draped over her shoulders. At her feet, Aaron was curled up under another blanket, cheeks flushed in sleep.

"Okay, somebody want to explain to me what the hell is going on here?" Tony demanded. He pointed a finger at Nyssa accusingly. "Do you have something to do with why my nanny quit?" She shrugged.

"If a nanny is willing to quit over being prevented from hitting a fifteen-month-old child, I don't think she's worth whatever you're paying her," she said simply. She nodded down at Aaron. "He was very upset when she chased him in here, but he's okay now." Tony straightened up.

"I guess she was a little, ah…" he started

"Militant?" Nyssa suggested. Tony sighed and nodded, then bent down to scoop up his sleeping son.

"Well, good night, everyone. I guess I'm on bedtime detail," he said. Bucky crouched down by Nyssa.

"How are you feeling?" He asked. She gave him a weary smile.

"Not too bad, all things considered," she replied. "I'd really like to go home." Bucky looked over at Sam.

"How about it, Doc?" he asked. Sam rolled his eyes.

"I'm not a doctor," he reminded him. "But it looks like she was stable while we were gone. She'll need to get some food in her system, and she should probably take it easy for a few days, get plenty of rest."

"I don't think she'll need too much encouragement for either of those things," Nyssa offered helpfully, and extended a hand towards Bucky. "Can you help me up?" Bucky stood and pulled her to her feet. His thigh twinged, and he remembered why he had wanted to come here in the first place.

"Wait here just a minute," he instructed. "I just have to get some supplies before we go." She frowned slightly, her eyebrows knitting in concern.

"Are you hurt?" she asked worriedly.

"Nothing major. I just need a band-aid," he reassured her. She leaned back against the bed as he went over to the supply cupboard to grab a new bottle of disinfectant and a handful of the proper-sized bandages. Nyssa was still leaning against the bed when he got back, but slightly slumped, and her eyes were closed. She startled when he touched her shoulder, and jerked upwards, straightening her spine. "Ready to go?" Bucky asked softly. She nodded, moving slowly towards him. He offered his arm, and she clung to it gratefully. They walked together down the hallway. By the time they reached the elevator, she was leaning heavily against him.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "I don't know why I'm so exhausted."

"Well, you have been mostly dead all day," he noted wryly. She laughed softly at the reference and leaned her head on his upper arm. The elevator stopped, and the doors opened. Bucky stepped in that direction, but Nyssa stayed put. "Doors are open, doll. We should go."

"I'm trying," she replied, sounding frustrated with herself. "My feet feel like they weigh three tons apiece." With a chuckle, Bucky turned and swept her up into his arms. Stepping out into the hallway, he hefted her playfully.

"Nope, still feather-light as usual," he teased her. She twined her arms around his neck and tucked her head under his chin. He carried her down the hallway and shifted her slightly to open the door to their apartment.

"How's she doing?" Elijah asked from the living room. Darshan trotted over to greet them.

"Some good food and some rest, and she'll be healthy as ever," Bucky reassured him. Elijah looked relieved.

"Do you need anything?" Elijah offered. "I could cook something, or… run to the store." Bucky shook his head.

"Thanks for the offer, but I think I've got it," he assured the other man. Nyssa reached out towards her surrogate father.

"Sorry to worry you," she mumbled. Elijah took her hand in both of his own and leaned in to kiss the top of her head.

"I'm fine. You just rest and heal," he admonished her. "Give me a call when you're feeling up for a visit." She nodded. He tossed a salute off to Bucky. "I leave her in your capable hands, sir."

"Have a good night, Elijah," he replied. He would have saluted in return, but his hands were occupied. Elijah left, closing the door carefully behind him. "Where to, my love? Do you just want to go to bed? Are you hungry? Are you still cold?" He remembered it taking several days before he stopped feeling cold after being in cryo.

"Yes, I'm freezing," Nyssa said with a shiver. "But hungry, too."

"Well, why don't I draw you a nice, hot bath, and you can warm up in there while I make something for us to eat?" Bucky suggested.

"That sounds heavenly," Nyssa sighed happily. Bucky grinned and carried her into the bathroom. Setting her down on the edge of the tub, he started the water running as she slowly got undressed. Darshan sat in the doorway, supervising. Bucky whistled, and a moment later, Balaur came gliding into the bathroom. He perched on Bucky's shoulder. Bucky gestured to the candles he had set up around the edges of the tub.

"Balaur, _lys,_ " he commanded. With a chirring noise, Balaur hopped down and puffed a tiny flame at each candle wick. It had taken Bucky months to train him on this one trick, but he was pretty proud of it. Nyssa couldn't see the flames, but she would be able to feel their warmth and smell the lightly scented candles. Balaur finished lighting the last candle and flew back to Bucky's shoulder expectantly. "I don't have a treat for you right now," he informed the tiny dragon, holding up his empty hands to prove it. Balaur made a disappointed noise and attempted to nibble on Bucky's fleshy thumb instead. Bucky pulled his hand away. "Go into the kitchen, and I'll have something for you in a minute." Balaur flew out of the bathroom. Darshan sniffed after the little reptile. Bucky shook his head and tested the water, adjusting the temperature slightly. Nyssa was already climbing into the tub and sighed happily as she slid into the hot water. Bucky reached into a basket on the bathroom shelf and grabbed one of the colorful spheres. "Bath bomb?" he asked. Nyssa nodded with a grin and a giggle. He let the sphere fall into the water with a splash. Nyssa made an explosion sound effect with an impish grin. It had become a running joke between them, stemming from Bucky's initial confusion when he had heard the term. With a low chuckle, he bent and kissed her forehead. "I'm going to go cook something," he informed her.

"I must be the luckiest girl in the world," Nyssa responded. Bucky scoffed.

"Maybe wait to taste the food before you decide that," he suggested. Her quiet laughter followed him out to the kitchen. He had already decided what to make but wasn't certain how it would turn out. Nyssa had already established a tradition for post-mission meals when he was injured. She would make a from-scratch chicken noodle soup that she claimed her mother had always made for her when she was ill. She insisted it had actual healing properties. At first, Bucky had protested that he didn't need to be babied and his body did just fine healing on its own. But it was a very tasty soup, much more flavorful than the ones they sold in a can nowadays, and he couldn't deny that it was comforting. She had jotted down the recipe at his request, but this was the first opportunity Bucky would have to make it for her. He set the noodles to boil in the seasoned chicken broth, then diced the vegetables and tossed them in, too. He had just finished sautéing the chunks of chicken and added them to the broth when there was a splash from the bathroom and Darshan barked in alarm. He dashed down the hall to the bathroom and arrived in time to see Nyssa sit up in the water, coughing and spluttering.

"Are you okay?" he asked her.

"I think… I fell asleep," she admitted sheepishly. Her expression turned almost mournful. "This bath feels so good and I don't want to get out, but I'm so tired, I should probably go to bed where I can't drown."

"Or maybe there's another option," Bucky said thoughtfully. "Wait just a minute." He went back to the kitchen for a moment and turned the soup down to low. It wouldn't hurt it to simmer for awhile. Returning to the bathroom, he stripped down and climbed into the tub. Settling down behind her, he pulled her in close and held her safely against his chest. "There. Now you can sleep if you want to." She made a soft noise of contentment and snuggled into him.

"I thought this couldn't get any better, but I was wrong," she said wonderingly. He tightened his arms slightly, holding her closer, and buried his face in her hair, reflecting for a moment on how close he had come to losing her. The knot of fear and dread that had taken up residence in his throat since Nyssa collapsed was dissolved by a wave of relief and came leaking out his eyes, his tears anointing her damp hair. He felt her arms encircle him and her presence surround him, not holding him together but providing a comforting place to fall apart.

* * *

An hour later, she was warm and dry, tucked into bed in one of his shirts that she had appropriated for a nightgown and under every blanket in the apartment. Bucky was stretched out on the bed next to her in boxers and new bandages, resting on top of the blankets, his attention on her as she finished up the last few bites of soup. She set the spoon back on the bowl, carefully set the bowl on the nightstand, then rolled back to face him. He raised his eyebrows at her.

"Well?" he prompted. She grinned at him.

"Warmed me up the rest of the way from the inside out, and it was delicious. I should make you cook for me more often," she declared. Bucky groaned.

"Shit, was that a trap? I feel like that was a trap," he groused good-naturedly. It wasn't that he was a stranger to the kitchen. They cooked together several times a week. He found that he greatly enjoyed it, and it was also mutually beneficial. She taught him new recipes and techniques, and he found things, got things down from the high shelves, and made sure she didn't cut herself. But he rarely ventured into the kitchen on his own. Nyssa laughed.

"Well, you know what they say. The reward for a job well done is another job," she reminded him teasingly.

"Not always," he retorted. "Near-death experience aside, you did well infiltrating the new Hydra operation. But after the day we've had, I'm seriously considering asking Tony to make a suit for you." She gave him a sardonic look.

"You want to encase me in metal and render all of my abilities useless?" she asked pointedly.

"I did consider it, for about two minutes," he said archly. His hand found hers, their fingers intertwining. "I just don't want to lose you." Her expression softened.

"I'm certainly not planning on going anywhere," she replied. "I understand you feeling protective. I always feel safe with you. Just be careful not to protect me so hard that you keep me from living my life. I also need you to trust me."

"I do," Bucky insisted. "I just… You almost died today. What if next time it isn't an almost?"

"I could say the same thing about you," she countered. "On any given day, either of us could make the ultimate sacrifice. You take just as many risks and are just as likely to be killed in action."

"I'm a little harder to kill, though," he insisted. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Oh, really? As far as I can tell, both of us are at one hundred percent for making it to the next day. So we're on equal footing for that," she pointed out. He frowned slightly.

"I'm not sure you can figure a percentage on that one," he said thoughtfully. "Isn't it more of a pass or fail kind of thing?"

"Maybe," Nyssa conceded. "Except, how do you figure in zombies?" Bucky scoffed.

"Zombies? Now you're just making stuff up," he accused. Nyssa let out a little huff of laughter.

"Are you sure?" she teased. "You're a 104 year old super soldier, married to a blind telepath who moonlights as a technopath, and you have a pet dragon. Your best friends and coworkers are another super soldier, a flying man who can talk to birds, a chaos witch, a sapient computer construct and the literal god of lightning. Are you completely certain there's no such thing as zombies?"

"Guess nothing's impossible," he conceded. "I will reserve judgement until we encounter an actual zombie."

"Fair enough," Nyssa allowed. "Although Sam mentioned that I was dead for a few minutes today before you all brought me back to life. So, technically, I might just qualify as a zombie." Bucky chuckled and shook his head.

"But you don't look like a zombie," he pointed out. "You don't have the rotting skin, the limited vocabulary or the vacant expression."

"No," Nyssa agreed, "but I am feeling this… overwhelming attraction to your brains. Braaaains!" She ended with a blank expression and a playful zombie moan, leaning over in an open-mouthed attack. Bucky half-deflected, pulling her head down and capturing her mouth in his. She moaned again, this time sounding much less like a zombie. The kiss ended, but she kept her eyes closed and rested her forehead against his. "Is that what you're going to do in case of a zombie attack?" she asked mischievously. "Kiss them?" She traced his lips with her finger. "That seems like a very efficient way to get bitten."

"Only if the zombie is you," he declared softly, and kissed her again. She melted into him, sagging as her body reminded her how exhausted she was. He could feel how hard she was fighting to stay awake. He caressed her face and pressed her back onto her side of the bed. "You are supposed to be resting," he admonished. Nyssa settled back against her pillows, pulling the blankets back up to shoulder level.

"Yessir," she said meekly, and yawned. She curled up on her side facing him. "Love you, Bucky," she murmured as her eyes drifted closed.

"Love you too, Doll," he replied, but she was already fast asleep.

* * *

Thanks to DarylDixon'sLover, NotMarge, karina001 and Qweb for the reviews! Feedback is always appreciated!


	8. Taking it Easy

**Disclaimer: Just for fun, not for profit! Most characters are property of Marvel, but a few are my own creation. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental.**

* * *

 **Taking it Easy**

Bucky rose early, as he always did, before the sky had begun to brighten with the first rays of dawn. Even now, he still never managed to sleep more than four or five hours at night. Nyssa was still sleeping soundly, drooling slightly into her pillow. He smiled down at her affectionately before leaving the room. He stepped carefully around Darshan, curled up on his bed at the foot of theirs, and gathered his clothes for the day without turning the light on.

Half an hour later, he was down in his workshop. Tony had offered him the space after he had spent nine consecutive days carrying all his equipment down to the garage, working for a few hours, and then carrying it all back upstairs. Tony insisted it was only because he didn't want sawdust everywhere, but Bucky still thought it was a nice gesture. It had been shortly after he returned to the US that he had discovered his new hobby. It was Clint's fault, really. He had recruited Bucky to help him make a playhouse as a surprise for the kids after they had all moved into Avengers Tower, and Bucky had discovered how much he enjoyed working with wood. It was different from working with metal, which he had done plenty of while aboard _Sanctuary._ Metal was cold and unyielding until you applied fire or beat it into submission. Wood was warm, still holding the echoes of life, and there was richness in its texture, varied patterns in the grain. He still tended to favor practical projects over the purely ornamental, but there was beauty in them nonetheless. He remembered learning some basics back when he had been young and working in different jobs, before the Army. He'd known how to use a hammer, nails and a saw, but the tools nowadays made it much easier to cut, shave, carve and shape the wood. All the spinning parts and powered tools also necessitated that he tie his hair back.

He was almost done with his most recent project. It was a little smaller in scale than most of his other endeavors, but detailed, and he was finding it a little challenging. He ran the rotary tool along the lines he had already traced into the walnut, pausing every now and again to brush away the sawdust. In the background, he had the radio on just loud enough to be heard over the whine of his tools. Whenever he couldn't get his brain to settle down or found himself struggling with his dark moods, he took refuge here. It helped him focus on something else, kept both his hands and his mind occupied. He brushed the sawdust off the small piece of wood in his hand, inspecting the piece with both his eyes and his fingers before he nodded in satisfaction and set it down with the others waiting for their coat of varnish. He picked up the next one, then paused and turned to look towards the doorway. Steve had changed into his civvies and was standing there in jeans and a hooded sweatshirt.

"Sorry to interrupt," Steve said apologetically. "Friday said I'd find you here." He sounded a little bemused at having conversations with a computer.

"No, you're not interrupting," Bucky reassured him. "Nyssa was still asleep, so I thought I'd get a little work in before everyone else got up."

"Yeah?" Steve walked over to take a closer look. "What are you working on?"

"Anniversary gift," Bucky said with a little smile. Steve gave him a surprised look.

"Has it been a year already?" he asked. Bucky nodded.

"Next week," he confirmed. It was hard to believe. It seemed like it had been only a few weeks since they had been dancing at their wedding, but at the same time it felt like they had been together much longer than they had. "I hope she'll like them. Either way, she'll appreciate the work that went into them." He picked up another piece of his handiwork and scrutinized it before setting it down with some satisfaction. Steve watched him with a strange expression on his face.

"Married life suits you, Buck," Steve noted softly. Bucky looked over at his friend in surprise, and felt his cheeks warm slightly.

"Yeah, I think so too." He gave his oldest friend a keen look. "What about you? Have you found the future Mrs. Rogers yet?" Steve glanced down at the ground, his cheeks faintly pink.

"Not yet. A few potentials, but I haven't found that… certain something. I don't even know for sure if I even want that. But I didn't come to discuss my love life." There weren't many chairs in Bucky's workshop, but Steve leaned back against a tall stool and folded his arms over his chest. "Are you sure you still want me here to lead the mission, now that Nyssa's no longer in danger?'

"That's not the only reason I asked," Bucky reminded him. "Viper is still out there. Are you saying you don't like being back in that uniform?" Steve chuckled and shook his head slightly.

"I definitely don't hate it. I'll stay if you want me to. But based on what I've seen, Buck, you're doing just fine leading the Avengers without me," Steve pointed out. "You could have run that mission yourself. You very nearly did." Bucky turned sheepishly to face his friend.

"Sorry if I overstepped…" he started, but Steve held a hand up, shaking his head.

"Not at all. Your quick thinking probably saved the city. Makes me wonder if I was doing you a disservice, keeping you in my shadow for so long."

"I'm more comfortable in the shadows these days, anyway," Bucky replied with a shrug. He fiddled with the rotary tool, taking the head off and tapping the sawdust out of it. "Look, I know you had your reasons for wanting to be away. I don't know if you found whatever the hell it was you were looking for. All I know is, I would rather be following you again. Fighting Hydra together, just like old times."

"I don't know if I did, either," Steve admitted. "But either way, I'm glad to be back." Bucky set his tools back in their places as he became aware of a familiar ping at the edges of his consciousness.

"Nyssa's awake," he announced. Steve glanced around to see if she had appeared in the room, but she was nowhere to be seen. Bucky grinned at Steve's confusion. "Would you like to come up for breakfast?"

* * *

As soon as Bucky opened the door to the apartment, he was greeted by music and the sight of Nyssa bustling around the kitchen. He had given her a head's up that they had company, and she had changed into a pair of yoga pants and a sweater. Her hair was still a bit tousled, though it did appear she had made an attempt to tame it. Darshan was sitting at attention, supervising as Nyssa moved around, gathering ingredients. Eggs, cheese, sausage and ham were already sitting out on the counter next to the stove, and she was rummaging through the refrigerator for more ingredients.

"What are you doing?" Bucky asked. Nyssa tossed an odd look at him over her shoulder.

"You said we had company for breakfast. I was going to make breakfast," she explained, then smiled at Steve. "Hi, Steve." Steve smiled back at her.

"Hi, Nyssa," he replied.

"No, no, no," Bucky admonished. "You are still supposed to be taking it easy. You go sit at the table and relax. I'll make breakfast." She scoffed at him.

"A little bit of cooking is hardly strenuous," she countered. "Or life threatening. I think I can manage it." He put his hands on her shoulders and gently turned her towards the dining room.

"Out," he chided. "Darshan, escort." He gestured towards the table, and Darshan circled around her legs, bumping her gently in the direction of the table.

"Fine," Nyssa sighed, sitting down at the table in surrender. Darshan immediately planted his bottom on her feet.

"Do you want some coffee?" Bucky offered as he poured a freshly-brewed cup. Nyssa must have started the coffee maker as soon as she got up.

"Yes, please," she said meekly. Steve chuckled as he sat down next to her.

"Best not to fight it when he's determined to take charge," he advised _sotto voce_. Nyssa nodded.

"So I've discovered," she murmured back. Bucky set a mug of coffee down in front of each of them.

"You guys don't need to whisper. I can hear you anyway," he said archly. Steve gave him an apologetic look, but Nyssa appeared completely unrepentant as she took a sip of her coffee.

"So what have you been up to in the past year?" Steve asked Nyssa. "Are the Avengers keeping you busy enough?"

"Not enough to stay out of trouble, evidently," Nyssa observed, not without humor in her tone. "I got the board to reinstate my license, with Seraphina's help, so I've taken on a few therapy clients."

"Official therapist to the Avengers, now?" Steve queried. Nyssa shook her head.

"No, I'm too close to them now. Dual relationships are… a bad idea with therapy." She grimaced slightly, her tone rueful. Steve unconsciously glanced over at Bucky, who was standing at the stove with his back to them. "Others. But I do also have a revolving underground support group for anonymous crime-fighters in the city," she said brightly.

"Sam calls it the Super Secret Superhero Support Circle," Bucky volunteered from the kitchen. Steve chuckled.

"Wouldn't want to say that three times fast," he commented. Nyssa nodded agreement with a snicker.

"I'm also the official Community Outreach Coordinator for the Avengers," she finished. Steve frowned at her.

"The official what now?" he asked.

"Community Outreach Coordinator," she repeated. "I find projects in the community that the Avengers can participate in or help with."

"On a volunteer basis," Bucky interjected. Steve still appeared slightly confused.

"What kinds of projects?" he asked.

"Lots of things," Nyssa replied. "Fundraising drives, coordinating charity events, visiting people in the hospital, working with disadvantaged kids, helping the homeless. So often, people only hear about the Avengers when disaster strikes. We might be trying to help, but there's still a strong association with catastrophe. Balancing that out with community outreach helps to build community and changes public perception of what the Avengers are and what role they play in the city."

"Sounds very different from the organization that recruited me," Steve noted. "How did that go over with Fury?" Nyssa grinned impishly.

"It took awhile for him to come around," she admitted. "But he can't argue with the results. Public opinion of the Avengers is overwhelmingly positive now. And it helps the team, too, by reminding them of everything in this world that's still worth fighting for."

"Not that all of us need reminders," Bucky put in, giving her a significant look. She smiled in response and took a long sip of her coffee, then set her mug down.

"What about you? Still rescuing Hydra's old victims and giving them a new life aboard _Sanctuary_?" she asked. Steve sighed and shrugged.

"It's gotten a little harder to track them down," he admitted. "I'd like to think that means we've found them all, but I can never be sure. Mostly, we've been focusing more on just building community and running a floating city."

"That sounds challenging enough," Nyssa noted. "So who's running things while you're gone?"

"Gretchen," Steve replied. "And she does a great job. I'm seriously considering whether I want to go back, or just leave them to it and come home. I love what we created, but it feels good to have solid ground under my feet again. I guess it's a choice between old friends and new friends."

"Well, we'd be glad if you decide to stick around," Nyssa offered.

"Agreed," Bucky said as he set a plate down in front of each of them. Steve raised his eyebrows at the perfectly folded omelet on his plate.

"I don't recall your cooking skills being quite on this level before," he noted. Bucky smirked at him as he headed back into the kitchen.

"Amazing what a person can learn when they have opportunity to practice," he noted, then gestured towards Nyssa. "She taught me a lot of it."

"He's being modest," Nyssa demurred. "I haven't been able to make a decent omelet since I lost my eyes. Just turns into a scramble, every time."

"Fine. Nyssa and the Food Network. And YouTube," Bucky clarified. "Steve, have we made any headway on finding the Hydra agents at the water company?" Steve shook his head.

"They're allowing Natasha to go through their records, but so far she says nothing is jumping out at her," he answered. "They haven't even hired anyone recently, so either they were recruited after they already worked there, or Viper's been working on engineering this plot for a long time."

"I could figure that part out for you, if you can get me in a room with them," Nyssa offered.

"What part of that sounds like taking it easy?" Bucky said sternly.

"All of it, really," Nyssa retorted. "Just have them gather all of the employees in one room. I'll take a leisurely stroll down to the water company, look them over, tell you who the bad guys are, and then another relaxing walk back home. Easy peasy." Bucky raised an eyebrow at her.

"Just like that? Nothing else to it?" he asked skeptically. Nyssa chewed her food slowly, swallowed, and raised her eyebrows at them.

"Well, that's all for me," she clarified. "You guys will have your part as well." Steve and Bucky exchanged a look.

* * *

"I'm not sure I'm entirely comfortable doing this," Steve grumbled, staring out the window overlooking the massive room where all the water treatment employees had been ushered and were waiting. They had been told it was a mandatory meeting, but no more than that. Steve, Nyssa, Bucky, Natasha and Sam were all waiting in the observation room. An elevated walkway ran along the side, suspended high over the room, visible to everyone below.

"If you don't want to do it, Bucky can," Natasha suggested. "But she's right, you'd probably get a bigger reaction." Steve sighed and looked down at the floor.

"Fine, I'll do it," he grumbled.

"If you're going to do it, you have to commit," Nyssa warned him. "It has to be believable." She was standing in front of a display. On the screen, the image echoed all the people gathered on the floor below, milling about in confusion.

"I know," Steve groaned. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and strode out onto the catwalk. He squared his shoulders and turned to face the crowd below. The dull roar of conversations died away, replaced by a wave of excited whispers as they recognized Captain America. He took a deep breath, then raised his arms in a familiar salute. "Hail Hydra!" he called out. The whispers vanished, replaced by stunned silence. Two dozen pairs of eyes stared up at the blond man in the star-spangled uniform. Sam shook his head as he watched from the other side of the window,

"Man, nobody even reacted," he groaned in disappointment.

"Nobody reacted outwardly," Nyssa corrected him, "but they did react." Three of the figures on her display turned red. "There's your Hydra agents." The others crowded around her display, then looked out the window again at the warehouse floor below, their eyes picking out the guilty parties. "Better get them now. They're spooked and ready to bolt." Natasha nodded once and slipped out of the door, making her way around to the stairs that led down to the warehouse floor. Sam and Bucky walked out to stand beside Steve on the catwalk.

"Did it work?" Steve asked, sounding vaguely disgusted.

"Yeah, we got them," Bucky assured him. Natasha reached the first man and stopped to talk to him. The second man started looking nervous and fidgety. The third man started making his way towards the exit. Bucky reached over and tapped Sam's hand. Sam nodded.

"I see him. On it." Sam announced. He took off from the walkway, spreading his wings and diving down to land in front of the man attempting to escape. "Going somewhere?" he asked. Panicking, the man swung at him, but Sam easily blocked the punch, then grabbed his wrist. "Hey, we just have some questions." The Hydra agent tried to pull away, but Sam easily wrapped him up, pinning him against a nearby crate. Natasha had already talked her target off to the side of the room, and was ushering him out the door. Bucky approached the last one. His eyes widened as he recognized Bucky, and he slowly backed away, shaking his head.

"You will never defeat us," the man hissed. "Cut off one head, two more will take its place." His face contorted, and Bucky moved to stop him, but it was too late. He had already bitten down on the poison capsule. Nyssa suddenly appeared beside him. The man slumped to the floor, but Nyssa cupped her hand along the side of his face. He glanced at her, and his eyes widened slightly before they rolled back in his head. The other employees had backed away, leaving a ring with the agent, Bucky and Nyssa in the center. Bucky glanced at Nyssa, who shook her head slightly.

"He's gone," she announced. "But I got what we needed."

"Good," Steve said, coming up behind them. "Sam, get yours to a conference room for questioning. Bucky and Nyssa, join him, but I want Nyssa going between him and Nat's. We need to know what they know." Bucky tossed a salute to his oldest friend.

"And what about you?" Sam challenged. "What are you going to do?" Steve still had a slightly revolted look on his face.

"I'll join you in a bit," he promised. "First I need to go wash my mouth out with soap."

* * *

 **Thanks to NotMarge, DarylDixon'sLover and karina001 for the reviews! Feedback is always appreciated!**


	9. Plots, Plans and Pyramid Schemes

**Disclaimer: Just for fun, not for profit. Most characters are property of Marvel. A few of them belong to me.**

* * *

 **Plots, Plans and Pyramid Schemes**

The "conference room" they were borrowing for questioning the agents was a small abandoned office with only a desk and several boxes. Sam shoved the man into the chair next to the desk roughly.

"All right, spill," he demanded. "Your fate might well depend on if you can give us any valuable information." The man gaped at him, fear in his eyes. Bucky muscled Sam over and leaned in close to the man, grabbing his jaw with his metal hand and forcing his mouth open.

"You don't have a suicide pill, too, do you?" he asked suspiciously, tilting the man's head back and forth to inspect his teeth. The man shook his head as much as he could while still in Bucky's clutches. Bucky released him, and he leaned as far away from Bucky as he could, rubbing his jaw.

"What are you going to do to me?" he asked nervously. Sam folded his arms over his chest.

"That all depends on you," he said evenly. "We need information. What was the end goal? What is Viper's master plan? Where is her hideout? What does she have planned next?" The man was already shaking his head.

"I don't know. I don't know any of that," he insisted. "You've got the wrong guy, believe me!" Sam sent a slightly hesitant look towards Bucky, who shook his head. Nyssa had yet to be wrong. Instead, Sam scoffed.

"What are you, an idiot? You were part of a plot and you didn't even know what was going on?" he said disbelievingly.

"Did you know they were going to poison the entire city?" Bucky asked, his skepticism evident in his tone. The man's eyes widened, going slightly pale.

"No!" he protested. "That's not what was supposed to…" Bucky stared at him levelly, and he grinned at him with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Guess it's a good thing you guys must have stopped them, huh?"

"If you didn't have anything to do with it, why did you run?" Sam asked bluntly. The man shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Look, I know who you are. The Avengers don't go poking their noses around unless something's going on." He shrugged. "Whatever it was, I didn't want to be involved. I can't be accused of anything. I can't go to jail. I have a son who needs me."

"Should have thought of that before you got involved with terrorists," Bucky growled. The man seemed to shrink down behind the desk as both Sam and Bucky glowered down at him. The door opened suddenly, and Nyssa walked in. She set a sandwich and a glass of water down on the desk in front of their captive. Bucky and Sam both gave her disbelieving looks.

"We did interrupt their lunch hour," she pointed out. Pushing a box opposite the employee, she seated herself cross-legged on it. The man was eyeing the food and water suspiciously. "It's not poisoned," Nyssa reassured him. He looked from her to Bucky and Sam. With a short bark of humorless laughter, he shook his head.

"What's this supposed to be? Bad cop, bad cop, good cop?" he asked sarcastically.

"We're not cops, Michael," Nyssa reminded him, her voice taking on a maternal quality. "I know you're worried about saying too much. Let me tell you how an otherwise good and honorable man like yourself gets involved with a despicable organization like Hydra." Michael eyed her dubiously. "You have a son, one that you would do anything for. Owen has Duchenne's. You have good insurance, but the bills still add up, and they were starting to refuse to cover his treatments, weren't they? It must have been hard, trying to figure out how to cover those and keep a roof over your heads and food on the table. So an opportunity presented itself. They promised you wouldn't have to do more than keep their secrets, promised you enough money that his treatments would be covered for the next ten years." She inclined her head towards him and raised her eyebrows speculatively. "Perhaps even more. Did they claim to have a cure?" Michael bowed his head. Nyssa's face contorted in an odd mixture of anger and sympathy, then softened as she slowly shook her head. "They lied to you, Michael. They had no cure." He covered his face with his hands in despair and shame. Nyssa reached forward and laid a hand on his arm. "I cannot shield you completely from the consequences of your choices. But if you cooperate with us, I promise you, I will do all I can to help make sure Owen and his mother are provided for." He dropped the hands shielding his face and glanced up at her speculatively. After a long moment, his shoulders dropped, and he nodded slowly.

"Okay," he said softly. He took a deep breath and looked around the room at them. "It started just a couple months ago. I was picking up as much overtime as I could to pay off some extra bills. Warren got out of me why I needed the money. Next thing I know, he and Brad cornered me in the break room and started talking about this organization."

"Hydra," Nyssa prompted quietly, and he nodded.

"It sounded pretty good at the time. All I had to do was watch the security cameras while they did the work, and then erase the footage when they were done. They said it was to create a better world, give back some of the advantages that were taken away from a working-class guy like me. And then they promised a cure for Owen, and I just…." He gestured helplessly. "I figured I had to at least try to go for it, you know? If they really had a cure, and Owen could have a healthy, long, normal life, and I just passed on it…." He shook his head. "I lost a few nights' sleep over it. But I couldn't pass it up." Nyssa nodded understandingly.

"How much of the plan did you know ahead of time?" she asked. Michael shook his head.

"Not a lot. I definitely didn't realize the, the scope of it. The first hint I had was when they delivered a bunch of flats of water to our apartment with instructions not to use any of them before a certain date." He glanced over at Bucky. "But I didn't know they were going to target the whole city. I didn't!"

"Did you ever meet anyone else, anybody from Hydra other than Warren and Brad?" Nyssa queried. Michael nodded slowly.

"They brought me to a meeting once. Some lady gave a speech about fulfilling our destiny and restoring order." He shrugged. "Some of it seemed pretty out there, but I just wanted to get that cure for Owen." He leaned forward suddenly. "The doctors say he probably won't make it past twenty-five. I just wanted him to have a life!"

"And how many other kids were you willing to sacrifice to give him that?" Sam replied, his tone uncompromising. Michael groaned and covered his face again. Nyssa reached out and pulled one hand away.

"Michael, I want you to walk me through that meeting," she said urgently. "What was said, the other faces that were there, where it was, how you got there. Can you do that for me?" He stared at her hard for a few seconds, then nodded.

* * *

A little over an hour later, Michael and Warren were both being taken away by police. Warren had been much more entangled in Hydra's web, but not to the point of being willing to kill himself rather than divulge any information. Nyssa was quiet on the drive back to Avenger's Tower, sitting with her eyes closed. She almost looked like she was sleeping, but after the interrogation sessions today it was more likely she was compiling all the information she'd gleaned to report to the others once she got back, cross-referencing all the different sources and making connections between them. Sam slid his foot sideways into hers.

"Hey, were you serious about making sure Michael's family is taken care of?" he asked. Nyssa didn't open her eyes, but nodded her head. Sam frowned. "He didn't really give us the kind of information that would warrant…"

"I was going to help them regardless, Sam," she replied softly. "Just because the father… made some poor choices, doesn't mean the son should have to suffer unnecessarily." Sam raised his eyebrows.

"Still, seems like a pretty big favor for a Hydra stooge," he observed. Now Nyssa did open her eyes.

"It's a couple phone calls to Phoenix Rising, Sam. Maybe an email to Shuri to see if there are any options we don't know about. It's not like I promised to pay child support for him," she sighed. "You can blame the man if you want, but he's not evil. Blame the circumstances that drove him to believe he had no other options. Blame the society that creates situations where people have to choose between their health and their homes. Blame the men who preyed on his vulnerability." She shook her head slightly. "Apparently Hydra's been leaning very heavily on their members to do recruiting. They specifically target people in desperate situations who could be swayed to their way of thinking. The more people you can find who fit their requirements and recruit them, the faster you rise in the ranks."

"It's like the world's shittiest pyramid scheme," Natasha noted wryly.

"Hey, language," Steve chided, a twinkle in his eye as he poked fun at himself. Natasha snorted appreciatively. Nyssa half-grinned and tilted her head back against her seat, closing her eyes again. Steve frowned and leaned closer to Bucky, who was driving. "Is she okay?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Bucky glanced in the rearview mirror and nodded.

"She always needs processing time after these kinds of missions," he replied at the same volume. "What about you? Are you glad to be back in the uniform?" Steve chuckled and shrugged.

"I mean, this wasn't really a standard mission for me. Hopefully the next one will have a little more action and not so much… stage performance."

"Really?" Bucky shot back teasingly. "I would think being back on a stage would remind you of the old days more than anything." Steve rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Jerk," he muttered as he settled back in his seat. Bucky grinned.

* * *

Wanda, Vision and Scott met them in the conference room to discuss the day's events. Wanda was digging into a bowl of something smothered in melted cheese. Everyone filed in and arranged themselves around the table except for Nyssa, who crossed to the display screen set into one wall. Opening the panel next to the screen, she rested her hand on the computer. The screen suddenly came to life, names and images flickering across it.

"These are the people identified as being at Hydra-associated meetings earlier this month. Aside from Viper, these two are the biggest threats," she stated. Two of the profiles suddenly came to the forefront. "Kenuichio Harada is employed as her bodyguard. He has the ability to generate a tachyon field to surround anything. He generally uses it with his katana, which enables it to cut through pretty much anything."

"Even vibranium?" Steve asked skeptically. Nyssa shrugged.

"I'm not sure what effect a tachyon field would have on vibranium," she admitted.

"Vibranium would be resistant to tachyons," Tony declared as he strode breathlessly through the doorway. Aaron clung to his neck. "Sorry I'm late, everyone. Haven't found a new nanny yet and Aaron was still napping. I may or may not have been tweaking a couple new features for my suit." He sat down at the table. Aaron slid off his lap and crawled under the table. "Aaron, what…. Come back here!" The toddler ignored his father and continued to crawl. Tony heaved a sigh and sat back in his chair. "I give up. What did I miss?"

"Harada goes by the code name Silver Samurai," Nyssa continued as if she hadn't been interrupted. "The other person who is crucial to the newly revived Hydra organization is Frank Payne. He was originally part of S.H.I.E.L.D but defected to Hydra. He was believed to be among those killed in action in the Battle at the Triskelion, but evidently is very much alive. All three of the agents we talked to today had very clear memories of him. He goes by the name Constrictor." Between the images of the two men, a picture of Viper appeared. "Either of these men could lead us to Viper. They will have a more complete idea of her plans. They will know where the base of operations is located. They will know what her next move will be."

"Wait, _that's_ Viper?" Tony asked incredulously. "I know her…" He frowned at the image. "Ophelia Sarkissian, of Sarkissian Agrochemical. She's worth a fortune. I've met her several times at different functions and fundraisers."

"So she enjoys a party," Scott said thoughtfully. "Could we use that to lure her out?"

"Oh!" Wanda cried out suddenly, then started to laugh. "Somebody's tickling my toes." Pushing her chair back from the table, she bent forward as much as her pregnant belly would allow. Aaron shrieked and crawled away.

"Well, we did get an invitation from the mayor today," Sam volunteered, bringing everyone's attention back to the topic at hand. "The city wants to honor us for averting the poisoning disaster, so they are throwing a superhero-themed masquerade ball in our honor. Tomorrow night."

"Do we know if Sarkissian is on the guest list, too?" Natasha asked. Tony shrugged.

"It would be an insult not to invite her," he pointed out. Bucky shifted in his chair.

"If she's being invited to an event celebrating her failure, I wouldn't put it past her to bring her poison to the party," he noted.

"Then we have to be there to stop her," Steve declared.

"Incoming call from Berlin," Friday announced. The pictures of Viper, Constrictor and the Silver Samurai were abruptly replaced with Sharon's face.

"Hi everyone," she greeted them. Her face registered surprise and embarrassment as she realized Steve was there, too. "I just wanted to give you a heads up. We had a break in at the CIA warehouse here in Berlin last night. They are still cataloging to figure out what was taken. So far, the only thing missing is the red book from the Winter Soldier Project." Everyone focused their attention on Bucky, who leaned forward and laced his fingers together.

"Thanks for the notice, Sharon," he said, trying not to let any of the apprehension that had suddenly settled in his stomach creep into his voice. She nodded.

"You're welcome. Now I have to get back to work. Everything's on lockdown until they figure out how whoever it was got in and out without tripping our security." The screen went black. Aaron crawled out from under the table, slowly stood up, and toddled towards the screen. His little fist pounded on the edge of it, making the entire screen shake. Nyssa scooped him up, cooing in his ear. He protested at first, but settled down as she bounced and swayed with him, singing softly to him.

"Do you think that's connected?" Wanda asked worriedly. Bucky nodded slowly.

"I'm sure of it," he said with certainty.

* * *

Meeting adjourned, Bucky and Nyssa headed back to their apartment. Darshan met them at the door, and Nyssa grabbed his harness from the hook nearby.

"You need a walk, don't you, boy?" she said affectionately, rubbing the dog's head.

"Mind if I tag along?" Bucky asked lightly. He wasn't certain if it was concern for her or simply a desire to keep her close that motivated him to ask.

"Of course not," Nyssa replied. He followed her out of the door and down to the street. Her arm slipped through his as she set a more leisurely pace than usual. The late afternoon was warm, but she still wore a sweater. They walked for a couple blocks in companionable silence. He was aware that they drew more than a few furtive glances on the street. In the past, it was not unusual to run into a fan, but today they left them alone. Bucky was grateful for this, as he was not in much of a mood for pictures and signatures today. His mind kept wandering to the events of the day, the upcoming ball, the missing book.

"You're worried about that book, aren't you?" Nyssa asked.

"The timing is awfully convenient," he said wryly. "If Viper isn't the one who stole it, we might have even bigger problems."

"There's nothing in that book can control you anymore," she reminded him.

"I know that," Bucky sighed. "She doesn't, though."

"Which means you can turn it to your advantage," Nyssa pointed out. "You'd be surprised how often using people's assumptions against them can work out in your favor."

"This is true," he agreed, somewhat comforted by the thought. He wasn't sure how much more he wanted to discuss the topic, though. He dropped his arm from hers and wrapped it around her shoulders instead, pulling her closer. "The real question is, what do you want on your hot dog?" He gestured expansively at the familiar cart parked at the edge of the sidewalk. He had been delighted to find that this one remnant of his youth remained after so many decades away, and frequently stopped for some of the street meat, usually stacked high with all the fixings. The vendor waved at both of them, already preparing a row of hot dogs.

"Hello, Dave," Nyssa greeted him cheerfully.

"Having your usual today?" the cook inquired, already spooning toppings onto the hot dogs.

"I'll take three," Bucky told him cheerfully.

"I need to warm up today," Nyssa said contemplatively. "I'll take a chili cheese dog with extra jalapeno." Bucky glanced at her in surprise, and she smirked up at him. "Have to counteract your double onions somehow." He shook his head with a wry grin as Dave handed over their food. Leaving a twenty dollar bill on the counter, they continued on their stroll.

Nyssa leaned back against him as they took the elevator back up to their apartment.

"What time is it?" she asked, yawning. "It feels late. It has to be after nine, right?" Bucky chuckled.

"Yes, very late. The late night hour of six-thirty PM," he replied teasingly. Nyssa sighed.

"Wow, lame. I must be getting old," she said sourly.

"I'm still more than sixty years older than you," he reminded her. She grinned and turned her face up towards him. Standing on her tiptoes, she twined her arms around his neck.

"This is true. Cradle robber," she teased.

"If I wanted a woman my own age, I'd have to be a grave robber," he retorted.

"True. And that doesn't sound nearly as… appealing," Nyssa observed with a little shudder.

"I'd much rather be kissing you," Bucky murmured in agreement, pressing his lips to hers. With one arm, he pulled her in close, lifting her up. Her toes dangled several inches above the floor.

"You'd rather kiss me than a corpse?" she realized as he lifted his face from hers. "I'm not sure that's much of a compliment."

"Well, I am very happy not to be kissing a corpse," Bucky intoned solemnly. His mood shifted slightly, becoming more somber. He kissed her again, taking the embrace deeper as it moved from playful to sensual, reigniting the smoldering desire that was never far away when they were alone together. Nyssa sighed, then moaned as he kissed her thoroughly, her body pressed tightly against his.

"Mmmm. Since we have a few hours left in the day, I think I have some ideas how we could spend the time," she whispered in his ear, then closed both lips and teeth over his earlobe, sending white hot shivers down his spine and eliciting a groan from him.

"If you keep that up, we might not make it back to the apartment," he growled, resisting the temptation to take her right there in the elevator. She laughed softly, her breath warm against the skin of his neck as the elevator doors opened. Loosening her arms, she dropped back down to her feet. Grabbing Darshan's harness, she led the dog down the hall to their door, moving faster than she had all day. She paused at the door and looked back over her shoulder at him.

"I'll go slip into something… less comfortable," she declared with a suggestive smile before disappearing inside. With a hungry grin, Bucky followed.

* * *

 **Thanks to DarylDixon'sLover and my lovely guests for your reviews! Always appreciated, and nice to know that people are reading and enjoying!**


	10. Preparations and Revelations

**Disclaimer: Marvel Characters are property of Marvel. Original Characters are mine. Just for fun, not for profit.**

* * *

 **Preparations and Revelations**

Nyssa stood in front of the sliding door out to the balcony, dressed in her yoga pants and sports bra. Leaning forward, she pressed her hands down on the mat and shifted her weight back in the now-familiar start of her yoga routine. Darshan lay on the floor nearby, watching her with relaxed attentiveness. Bucky settled onto the couch, cup of coffee in hand, and switched on the television. Sometimes he joined Nyssa for her morning workout routine, but this morning he felt quite limber enough already. The news was full of the recent events: the poisonings, the Avengers saving the city, and the upcoming masquerade ball. Bucky found his attention kept drifting back to Nyssa's contorting form over by the window, watching her body make different shapes and recalling with a smile the shapes her body made against his the night before.

He had noticed there seemed to be a direct correlation between the difficulty of her workouts and how well she was feeling. Judging by the poses she had chosen this morning, she was feeling much better. He tilted his head to the side as she folded herself in half, planted her hands firmly on the mat and raised her feet over her head in a slow, controlled handstand. She held herself straight up for a moment, then lowered her feet down to her head, then past, and lowered her body down in a slow forward roll. She ended in a seated lotus position, sitting very still for the last ten minutes, and Bucky shifted his attention back to the television, trying to pretend that he'd been watching television rather than ogling his wife. He almost didn't notice when she stood up and crossed behind the couch. He jumped slightly as she grazed gentle fingers across the back of his neck. She chuckled and turned to brush a kiss against his temple.

"Glad you enjoyed the show," she murmured in his ear. He gave a throaty chuckle and turned his head to capture her mouth in his. She sagged against him, melting into the embrace, her fingers running along his scalp and sending electric shivers down his spine. He was tempted to pull her down on the couch with him, but she broke the kiss off with a soft laugh. "As much as I'd love to stay here and have you for breakfast," she murmured, "I am meeting Seraphina at Sarabeth's East for omelets, and then she's going to help me find my dress for the ball tonight. We only have a few hours, because Wanda's baby shower is at one and I still have to get all the decorations up before all the guests arrive."

"And then you have to get ready for the mission, I mean ball, which starts at seven. That's' a pretty packed day," Bucky noted. "You sure you don't want to reschedule that baby shower?" Nyssa shook her head.

"Are you kidding?" she asked. "I've been planning it for months. Everyone's already rearranged their schedules to be there, and Wanda is looking forward to it."

"Right, and you're not excited at all," Bucky replied dryly.

"Well, of course I'm excited," Nyssa replied. "Babies are always exciting. And this one is the result of the pairing of a woman who can manipulate reality itself and a sentient artificial construct. Which makes this child something the world has never seen before. How is it that you _aren't_ excited?"

"I'll be excited when there's an actual baby and we know it isn't going to destroy reality as we know it," he responded. Nyssa could be excited about the possibilities and hope of new life. He was more pragmatic. She raised an eyebrow at him, shook her head with a chuckle, and caressed his cheek affectionately before heading in the direction of the shower.

* * *

Bucky knocked on the door of the apartment that Steve had moved into. He could already hear voices inside. Steve answered his knock after a minute and smiled.

"Morning, Buck. Come on in," he invited, stepping aside to let Bucky enter. In the kitchen, Sam sat perched on a stool, a steaming mug of coffee in front of him. Bucky grinned at both of them.

"You guys are getting an early start," he commented. Sam gave him a smug look.

"You don't even know the half of it," he informed him. "We've been up since before dawn. Went for a run, ate a good breakfast, now we're strategizing for the mission tonight."

"Right. Food before strategy, right?" Bucky said with a smirk that turned into a look of admonishment. "Why wasn't I invited?" Sam snorted.

"Based on what we all were hearing last night, we decided it was better to let you two lovebirds sleep in," he quipped. Sam's apartment was next to Bucky and Nyssa's, and Tony had put Steve across the hall. Bucky glanced over at Steve, whose cheeks had turned slightly pink, then shrugged.

"Fair enough," he said evenly. "So what's the plan for tonight?"

"We just got started on that part," Steve admitted.

"The trick is that we're meant to be the main attraction," Sam replied, easily switching to the new topic. "We all were invited as guests of honor, but a lot of the other guests paid a lot of money for the opportunity to rub elbows with the Avengers. We're not going to be able to do a lot of investigation behind the scenes. We'll be expected to hobnob, shake hands, even dance with the guests, depending on how much they paid for their tickets. The city intends to use the money raised to repair the damage done to the public water system."

"Dance?" Bucky repeated, raising his eyebrows and looking over at Steve. "You think you'll be able to handle that?" Steve rolled his eyes.

"Sharon taught me to dance," he replied archly. "But thank you for your concern." Bucky chuckled but refocused his attention on the task at hand.

"Having to mingle won't be a problem for Nyssa," he said thoughtfully. "That's how she operates best. In fact, we can lean on her for identifying threats. The masks will make no difference to her." Sam nodded slow agreement. Steve raised his eyebrows.

"So her particular set of skills comes in handy pretty often, I'm guessing," Steve observed. Sam snorted.

"For the intel side of things, undoubtedly," he agreed.

"She can even alert me with what she discovers without letting anyone else know what's going on," Bucky added proudly.

"Of course, once the fight starts she has to be careful," Sam added. "She's good with a gun, but…" His voice trailed off. Bucky leveled a challenging look at him.

"What are you trying to say, Sam?" he asked pointedly. Sam spread his hands.

"What? I'm not saying she's not a valuable part of the team. I'm just saying that, on her own, if she doesn't have her dog with her…." He shrugged. "Doors and furniture can be hazardous."

"True, but that's only if she doesn't have Darshan _and_ doesn't have access to cameras," Bucky argued. "Even then, she's remarkably resourceful."

"Relax, Bucky. Nobody's arguing that Nyssa doesn't belong on the team," Steve interjected placatingly, giving Sam an admonishing look. "We're discussing tonight, remember?"

"Sorry." Sam grinned unrepentantly. "It's just way too easy to get him riled up as soon as you mention her."

"Right," Bucky sighed, pointedly ignoring Sam. "Tonight. My theory is, Viper sees this as an opportunity to score a victory where we defeated her before. Most of the guests are upper class, powerful. The mayor and both New York senators will be there. It's the perfect setup for an ambush."

"You're right, but we're expecting her to do something, so really it's a trap," Steve pointed out. "We suspect that it's her, but we don't have anything concrete to pin it on her. If she tries anything at the ball, we've got her."

"Is she really that bold?" Sam asked. "You said you knew her. What's her style?"

"She has a very high opinion of her abilities, so it's likely," Bucky confirmed. "She'll use poison, almost certainly. Somehow we have to monitor what's coming out of the kitchen. Drinks seem to be the more likely option, but if they're serving hors d'oeuvres, those might not be safe, either. And I have no idea about the others Nyssa mentioned."

"We'll talk to the Embassy and get them to increase security in the kitchen," Steve suggested. Sam and Bucky both nodded. They pulled up a schematic of the building and discussed possible escape or evacuation routes, which areas were more defensible and which ones everyone should try to avoid. When they had finished brainstorming and had formulated several contingency plans, the conversation turned to slightly less practical matters.

"So what are y'all wearing to this thing?" Sam asked. Steve looked surprised at the question.

"I'm just wearing my uniform," he said. "I thought you said it was a superhero theme."

"Yes, but it's still a formal ball," Sam pointed out. "Maybe add a jacket? Or at least a cape."

"Nyssa's gone hunting for an entire new gown," Bucky confirmed.

"I didn't bring a tuxedo with me," Steve said dryly. "And I'm a little short on American money right now." Sam scoffed.

"No, you're not," he chuckled. He shook his head and gave Bucky a disbelieving look. "You didn't tell him?"

"When have I had time to tell him?" Bucky challenged. "You're the one who's been with him since before dawn."

"Tell me what?" Steve interrupted.

"There is a bank account that I've been stashing money in for you," Bucky informed him solemnly. "It's managed to accrue quite a balance." Steve started shaking his head.

"Buck, I appreciate it, but I'm not a charity case. I don't need your money," he protested. Bucky shrugged.

"It's not really my money," he said cryptically. "It's Captain America's money." Steve frowned at him in confusion.

"Nyssa and Pepper cooked up that idea," Sam chuckled. "We started enforcing personality rights, including publicity rights. So any time anyone wants to put Captain America or Falcon on a lunchbox or a t-shirt, action figures or whatever, they have to pay us first."

"Captain America is pretty popular," Bucky confirmed. "But I didn't feel right keeping all of it, because you're the one who really made him a household name. So, you get seventy percent. Plus, there's interest, so…" He shrugged. "You've definitely got enough for a suit." Steve's eyes widened.

"Seventy percent? That seems… overly generous. Only thirty percent for you?" Bucky grinned and shrugged.

"I get by pretty comfortably on that thirty percent," he confessed. "Besides, it's not just me. Nyssa gets her cut, too. Plus, she has her regular therapy clients, and she occasionally even gets royalty checks from textbooks she's written." He shook his head. "We're not hurting, trust me."

"Well, I guess I'll pay for lunch, at any rate," Steve decided. Bucky grinned.

"I won't turn that down," he declared.

* * *

Nyssa's foot bumped into something soft and squishy. She bent down to pick up the fuzzy bunny that Lila had brought to the baby shower, a gift for Wanda's unborn child.

"Don't forget this one," she said, half-turning towards Wanda and holding out the leporine present.

"Thank you," Wanda replied. The stuffed animal lifted gently out of Nyssa's hand, floating across the room and settling atop the pile of diapers, onesies and board books. The other guests had already left, and Seraphina was waiting back at Nyssa's apartment to help her get ready for the ball.

"Are you feeling any more prepared now?" Nyssa asked. Wanda sighed, and flashes of both sadness, uncertainty and joy flared and shattered into a kaleidoscope.

"Yes and no," she admitted. "I'll admit I've been feeling sad lately that she will never know her grandparents or her uncle." She rested her hand briefly on her round belly. "But today your heled me remember that I do still have a family. Maybe I don't have a mother to talk to about becoming a mother, but I do have Laura, and you, Maria and Nat, and Pepper has already mentioned setting up some playdates…"

"And don't forget Lila's standing offer to babysit," Nyssa reminded her with a grin. "Plus, I'm sure Vision will be an attentive father. I hear he's been downloading every book on parenting and fatherhood that he can find." Wanda chuckled and nodded.

"It never hurts to be prepared, right?" she jibed. "Though I wonder if it's really any use. I doubt anyone has written any parenting books on raising children with… special abilities."

"It does add another layer of challenge," Nyssa agreed. "But their needs aren't different. They still need love and connection, they still need to learn to trust that their needs will be met."

"Are you certain of that?" Wanda asked uncertainly. She smoothed her shirt over her abdomen. "Technically, she isn't even human. I can feel her power. I love her already, but sometimes I'm a little scared of her, too. Every mother wants to raise her child to be good, to have a positive impact on the world. It just feels like the stakes are higher with her. I don't want to mess her up."

"The fact that you're worried about it makes it more likely that you'll be a great mom," Nyssa reassured her. "You'll probably make mistakes, because everyone does, but I think if anyone is up for the challenge, it's you." Relief and creeping hope began to peek through the worry and doubt. Wanda clasped her hands gratefully.

"Is it safe to come in?" Vision's voice drifted in to them from the doorway. Wanda chuckled.

"It's our home, Vis," she pointed out. "It should always be safe." Vision strode in with a somewhat bemused expression.

"I concur," he agreed, "but Tony informed me that if I returned too early, I was at risk of being 'hen pecked'."

"No, pecking was prohibited at this particular party," she informed him.

"You would have been welcome," Wanda reassured him. "I didn't know you wanted to come."

"I wasn't certain I did," Vision admitted. "That seemed to go against tradition. These human traditions are still new to me."

"This is all new to me, too," Wanda reminded him softly. He took her by the hand and drew her closer to him."

"We will navigate the unknown together," he assured her. Nyssa smiled to herself, whistled and called Darshan to her side before opening the door to the hallway.

"See you both at the ball tonight!" she called over her shoulder. She felt Wanda's acknowledgement as she left their apartment.

* * *

Bucky arrived home with half an hour to spare before they had to leave for the masquerade, the suit he had purchased slung over his shoulder. Darshan was lying in the hallway outside their room, so he meandered over to see what Nyssa was up to. Seraphina met him at the bedroom door, making shooing motions with her hands.

"This room is taken, Jimmy," she scolded.

"This room is also mine," he reminded her. He didn't bother correcting her on the name anymore.

"Sera, let him in," Nyssa chided from over by her dressing table. "It's not like there's anything he hasn't seen before."

"He hasn't seen the dress before," Sera pointed out. "Or the mask. And the effect won't be the same if he sees the work in progress."

"Can I come in if I promise not to peek?" Bucky asked dryly. "I have to get dressed, too." With a heavily affected sigh, Seraphina stepped aside to let him in.

"Fine," she exhaled, and crossed the room to stand between him and Nyssa, shielding his wife from his view. He turned so his back was to the women.

"You better not peek, either," he informed them.

"If I do, I won't tell," Sera replied impishly. He shook his head to himself as he began stripping his clothing off. He still wasn't quite accustomed to this kind of finery, despite the frequent formal events that Tony tried to invite him to. He donned the new suit – all black, with gold embroidery on the left sleeve, a subtle nod to the arm beneath it – and slipped on a black mask that covered the upper part of his face. At least he had two hands to tie his tie this time. He finished adjusting his tie and ran his fingers through his hair.

"May I turn around yet?" he asked. He had mostly tuned out their comfortable, familiar chatter, but now they had grown quiet.

"Okay," Sera declared. Bucky turned to see Nyssa standing before the closet. Her dress was lavender and white confection, with a violet cape that gave the suggestion of stylized wings and a skirt that nearly brushed the floor. The top half of her face and hair were completely covered by an intricate headpiece to the tip of her nose. Not even her eyes were visible behind the exquisite designs of the mask, and beautiful violet feathers adorned the edges, gliding over her dark tresses. Bucky let out a low, appreciative whistle. Nyssa grinned and pulled up the sides of her skirt to curtsey.

"No eye holes," he observed. Nyssa shrugged.

"I don't really need them, do I?" she pointed out.

"True," he admitted. He surveyed her finery again. "Things could get a little dangerous. Can you fight in that?" Her smile turned impish.

"That's the best part," she replied. She pulled on a pair of fleur de lis at her hips, and the skirt raised up in front, revealing stylish and practical ankle-high boots. A pair of revolvers glinted in holsters strapped to her thighs. Bucky raised his eyebrows, impressed but disbelieving.

"Wow, that's…. you got that off the rack today?" he queried. Nyssa shrugged.

"Off the rack, or possibly I met with a designer a couple months ago after Pepper advised me I should expand my formal wardrobe," she admitted.

"Well, I'm impressed," Bucky declared. "So which superhero are you?"

"I'm still an Avenger no matter what I wear," Nyssa pointed out. "But the designer said she drew inspiration from the amethyst starling, so there's that."

"So shall I call you Starling?" Bucky said with a roguish grin.

"Call me whatever you like, darling, as long as you dance with me," Nyssa replied, proffering her arm. "Shall we go?" Bucky laced his arm through hers. She glanced over her shoulder at Seraphina, who was still watching them with a grin. "I hope helping me get ready won't make you too late." Seraphina waved a hand dismissively.

"I'll just be fashionably late. Don't worry," she chirped, then made shooing motions. "Now get out of here, you two lovebirds."

"She's a starling," Bucky corrected over his shoulder as he escorted Nyssa out of the door. Seraphina rolled her eyes, shook her head, and smiled.

* * *

 **Thanks to DarylDixon'sLover and karina001 for your reviews! They are always appreciated.**


	11. Masquerade

**Disclaimer: Marvel Characters are property of Marvel. Original Characters are mine. Just for fun, not for profit.**

* * *

 **Masquerade**

Their car pulled up to the sprawling mansion that was hosting the evening's festivities. Bucky tensed slightly as he stared out the window at the crowd gathered around the red carpet stretching up to the front doors. There appeared to be few avenues for escape here. Once they exited the vehicle, they would be at the mercy of the crowd. He felt Nyssa's hand slip into his, and his unease was suddenly doused with a refreshing wave of calm. He glanced over at his wife, who smiled reassuringly at him.

"Don't be so focused on strategy that you forget this is a party," she admonished him, her tone slightly teasing.

"I will relax and enjoy myself when we are all safe at home and Viper is neutralized," he replied gruffly.

"So you're saying you prefer the afterparty to the actual party," she teased, her other hand caressing the back of his neck, sending a thrill down his spine.

"Thought that went without saying," he replied lowly and turned to capture her mouth with his. The thrill turned to incandescent desire as she melted into his embrace. Their kiss was interrupted as Arthur, their driver for the night, opened the door to let them out. The bright lights and roar of the crowd flooded the limousine, and Bucky braced himself as he helped Nyssa from the car. He curved his arm protectively across her back as they made their way up the scarlet path. She moved slower than he would have liked, smiling and waving at the crowd as they went by. He forced himself to slow down and acknowledge their fans as well. He had thought the cacophony of voices was loud to begin with, but the roar became deafening as they caught sight of Bucky and Nyssa. A sea of cameras and phones pointed at them. Behind them, their car pulled away. In its place, a sleek and shining vehicle pulled up. The crowd gasped and roared as they realized it did not have wheels, but instead hovered in place, the ground beneath it glowing gold and crimson. Tony and Pepper exited the vehicle and were quickly inundated with shouted questions and requests for photos and autographs. Bucky felt an upswell of relief as the attention moved on from them.

The entrance hall was resplendent with colorful and elegant décor. Along one wall was a sprawling table beset with delicious-looking hors d'oeuvres. A bartender was tending a drink station at one end of the table. A large portion of the room was cleared, leaving room to dance to the music provided by the string quartet. Around the edges of the room were several sections of tables and chairs. Aside from the massive Avengers' A that served as the centerpiece of the hall, the superhero theme was subtle. Each section was decorated with a different color scheme. The flowers, linens and even the lighting changed to reflect the colors of a different superhero. Steve's was probably the easiest to spot, with its patriotic color scheme. Red and white roses adorned a table with a blue tablecloth, and twinkling lights adorned the star-shaped centerpiece. The next section over was festooned in opulent reds and golds, leaving little doubt as to its inspiration. After a few moment's surveying the room, his gaze settled on a section of tables in one of the darker corners. The blues and reds were darker and interspersed with accents of black and grey. The centerpieces were abstract sculptures of dark marble shot through with shining gold. Beside it was a smaller section of tables bedecked in shining silver and muted greys, flowers adding a riot of different colors in vibrant contrast. Nyssa's hand in his echoed the familiar presence in his mind as she looked around at the grand embellishments through his eyes.

"Well, this is grand," Nyssa observed with a smile. Bucky grunted.

"Sure is," he replied sourly. "Low lighting, concealed faces, limited entrances, potentially poisoned food, and almost two hundred innocent people to protect." There were already many people in attendance; dancing, eating, drinking and generally having a good time.

"Can I at least have one dance with you before you go full-on soldier mode?" she asked, her tone resigned. Bucky took a deep breath and tried to refocus his mind from his mission to his marriage. With a grudging smile, he led her out to the dance floor.

It took only a few steps for the rest of the world to fade away. For the moment at least, he could forget about the specter of death looming over them all, swept up in the music and the simple pleasure of moving her around the dance floor. As always, her body moved in synchrony with his, seeming to know his next move almost before he did. They moved across the dance floor in harmony, their bodies moving in unspoken dialogue and communion. The music came to an end, and those who had been dancing applauded before departing to the buffet table. Nyssa smiled up at Bucky.

"Thank you," she said quietly. He leaned forward and kissed her. Uncertainly, they walked over to the food. Nobody who had eaten it thus far seemed to be getting ill, but that didn't mean there weren't poison bites scattered deeper in the table.

"What's the matter, Barnes? Didn't you bring your appetite tonight?" Tony asked as he came up behind them. The billionaire was stylishly dressed in formalwear with red and gold accessories, his face concealed by a mask that looked an awful lot like Iron Man's faceplate in mid-retraction. Bucky eyed Tony's plate full of food warily.

"Are you sure that's wise?" he asked in response. Tony grinned.

"Why wouldn't it be?" he asked. "I mean, as long as I have this." With a flourish, he produced a tiny metal rod slightly larger than a toothpick. "Observe." He stuck one end of it into his food. A green light flickered to life on the visible end. "It's programmed to sense any of the six poisons we know she was using, plus I threw in a few common ones for good measure. Green means it's safe to eat. If it's not, that turns red. So far, it appears that she hasn't had the opportunity to spike the food." He lifted his glass pointedly. "The bar is safe, too. He set up before they started bringing out the food and nobody else has touched his bottles. The three drinks I've sampled so far have cleared."

"You have any more of those?" Bucky asked. Tony smirked at him.

"What do I look like, the official poison detector?" Bucky raised an eyebrow at him. Tony produced two more from his pocket and proffered them to Bucky.

"Thanks," Bucky said shortly, taking one and handing the other to Nyssa. He gestured with his head towards the bar. "They offering any interesting drinks?" Tony nodded.

"In keeping with the night's theme, they are offering specialty drinks inspired by each of us. I highly recommend the Iron Man; it's powerful, flavorful, rich and attractive." He waved his glass at them, which was filled with a half-consumed drink with red at the bottom and transformed to golden yellow at the top. The rim was covered with grains of gold. Bucky snorted.

"Smells a little fruity to me," he commented. Tony shrugged.

"Maybe I'm an acquired taste," he replied. "But at least I'm not boring." Bucky rolled his eyes behind his black domino mask. Shaking his head, he went to investigate the options.

"What can I help you with?" the bartender asked as Bucky approached. Bucky eyed the menu of options printed in elegant calligraphy propped on the bar. Some of them looked interesting, but he didn't find any of them particularly appealing.

"Are these all the options?" he asked dubiously. "Do you have anything more... potent?" The bartender looked at him appraisingly.

"For you, certainly." He turned his back to Bucky and began pouring into a lowball glass. He set it down on the edge of the drink station. Bucky picked it up and eyed the black liquid suspiciously. He stirred it briefly with the tiny poison-detecting rod and was reassured by the green light blinking on. He tasted it, and was pleasantly surprised by the bite of whiskey, combined with a vague hint of apples and, despite the iced chill, a warm inviting flavor that reminded him of holidays. The flavor was a pleasant surprise given the daunting color of the beverage. He nodded appreciatively at the bartender and laid a ten-dollar bill on the bar. The bartender looked surprised. "It's an open bar tonight, sir." Bucky nodded and shrugged.

"It's a good drink," he said firmly, leaving the money on the counter. The money disappeared into the grinning bartender's pocket. Nyssa was standing quietly off to the side. Her body was half-turned away from Bucky, her head tilted slightly at the angle she usually assumed when scanning a large area at once. "Do you want anything, Doll?" he asked. "They have a Patchwork Punch with no alcohol." She shook her head.

"Maybe later." There was a note of apprehension in her voice, and he could feel her tension rising. She nodded towards the entrance. "They're here." Bucky took another sip of his drink before glancing in that direction. Viper – Ophelia Sarkissian – glided across the entrance hall in a form-fitting chartreuse gown and matching domino mask with crimson and yellow accents. She was flanked by two men. One was dressed in a silver suit, his face fully covered with an angry-looking silver mask. The other sported cowboy boots and a snakeskin jacket, his handsome features barely covered by a patterned tan and brown domino.

"There you guys are!" Bucky turned at the familiar voice and saw Steve approaching them. He had eschewed his work uniform and instead donned a nicely tailored royal blue suit with a white shirt and red tie. His face and head were covered by his usual mask and helmet, although the chin harness had been removed. "You both look great." He narrowed his eyes at Bucky's glass. "Should you be drinking that?"

"It's fine," Bucky assured him, then glanced surreptitiously towards where Viper was making her way through the crowd. "Viper just arrived." He kept his voice low. Steve turned and scanned the crowd, craning his neck until he spotted her. Bucky rolled his eyes. "Could you be any more obvious?" Steve turned slightly pink and abruptly turned away.

"Sorry," he apologized. Bucky sighed.

"You would make a terrible assassin," he informed his friend. Steve raised his chin and squared his shoulders.

"You know what, I'll take that as a compliment," he replied. "Keep eyes on her, don't let her out of your sight." Bucky raised an eyebrow at him.

"Where are you going?" he inquired. Steve smirked at him.

"What, did you think I came alone?" he asked, and brushed past Bucky. Weaving through the crowd, he stopped beside a woman elegantly clad in an emerald gown, her face obscured by a butterfly-shaped mask. Steve touched her shoulder lightly and she beamed up at him. Bucky shook his head with a bemused smile. Nyssa slipped her arm through his with a smile, her head still slightly turned towards Steve and his mysterious companion.

"Wonder who that is?" he murmured to Nyssa. Her smile broadened. Before she could respond, Mayor Medina stepped up to a podium set up to one side of the room.

"Can I have everyone's attention, please?" she requested into the microphone. Conversations died away, and the music paused. "Thank you. First of all, I want to thank everyone who is in attendance tonight. Your generosity will help rebuild the city into an even greater version of itself. It is in the spirit of this that I would like to announce a project that we are hoping to break ground on within the next year. As most of you are aware, our city has a tendency to attract… a different breed of villain. Our prisons have not always been up to the task of keeping them safely contained." A murmur rippled through the crowd. There had been several high-profile escapes in the last couple years. They had all ended with the Avengers recapturing the supervillains once more, but not before causing more damage and chaos. It was a critical issue, and one the Mayor had good cause to be concerned about – not solely because it was an election year. She gestured at a large screen behind her, which flickered to life. On the screen was the image of a shining white building. "We have consulted with some of the most brilliant minds available to design a new, state of the art detention center that can hold even the most powerful offenders. We have located an appropriate site but are still in the process of procuring funds. This type of facility is not an inexpensive proposition. We will be voting next week on a bill to approve financing, but I fear it may not be enough. I am calling on all of you to help us make this city a safer place by contributing to this project." Bucky glanced around the crowd. Their masks made their expressions difficult to read, but they didn't seem incredibly enthusiastic. He spotted Viper moving through the crowd, and his attention was drawn away from the Mayor's speech as his nemesis approached the table full of food. He watched closely, trying to be as subtle about it as possible. She hovered over the hors d'oeuvres, and he tried to keep an eye on her hands, but the room was crowded and the angle was less than optimal. She came away from the table with a petit four in hand. He wasn't certain whether he should be relieved or even more suspicious. He found his appetite had vanished, in any case.

 _She hasn't done anything yet,_ Nyssa's voice murmured reassuringly in his mind. _But the mayor wants us over on the dance floor now._ He glanced down at his wife, her arm still linked through his.

 _Why?_ He asked.

 _Did you forget the part where some of these guests paid good money to dance with an Avenger?_ Her words carried a flash of amusement, slightly teasing. Bucky exhaled a half-groan, half-sigh. Forced social interaction was not one of his favorite things, especially when he was fairly certain that at least one of the guests had it in for him. Nyssa leaned into him, and he savored the calm she radiated. Then they were separated as the organizers ushered all the Avengers to the now-vacated dance floor. Looking around, he realized everyone had arrived there safely. Wanda was resplendent in scarlet, while Natasha was a femme fatale in her little black dress. Next to her, Clint was staring off into space, and Bucky wasn't sure he was paying attention. Bruce was eyeing the line uneasily, tugging at the collar of his dress shirt. Scott looked nervous and excited at the line of fans lining up to dance with all of them. Sam was already practicing some of his dance moves, grinning towards the line. Bucky rolled his eyes to himself. To his left, Nyssa stood patiently with her hands folded in front of her. To his right, Steve looked nervous, his weight shifting imperceptibly back and forth as he mentally rehearsed his recently-learned dance moves.

The first woman to approach Bucky was dressed in crimson, her wobbling steps revealing that she had already visited the bar multiple times. She stumbled into his arms, her head rebounding off his chest, and she giggled as she sagged against him. He put his arms stiffly around her and pushed her around the dance floor for a few minutes as she giggled and chattered inanely about how handsome he was. He smiled politely and gave a little bow to her as the song ended. She staggered away with a giddy grin, soon replaced by another woman clad in white and gold. She was much steadier on her feet and more responsive to his lead. He looked over her shoulder at Nyssa, who was similarly engaged with a tall man in mostly black. He pushed down the sudden surge of jealousy. He felt her attention settle on him like a calming dove.

 _No matter who either of us dance with, I'm going home with you tonight,_ she reminded him. The jealousy retreated, settling down to gnaw at the pit of his stomach instead. He turned his attention back to his dance partner, and suddenly felt embarrassed by his double standard.

"They really did a fantastic job with the decorations, didn't they?" she murmured in his ear. Her voice sounded vaguely familiar, and he tried to remember where he might have met her before. "Of course, not as attractive as you," she continued.

"I could say the same," he replied, figuring it was at least polite to return the compliment. "At least, from what I can see." Her gilded mask covered much of her face. She laughed softly, her breath tickling his neck.

"Would you like to see more?" Her voice took on a breathy quality, and he nearly stepped on her foot as he realized she was flirting with him. Damn, but it still took him too long to realize when that happened.

"I feel like I have already seen your face before," he demurred, trying very hard not to rise to her bait.

"Indeed," she agreed. "But is there anything else you'd like to see? Perhaps later?"

"The Grand Canyon," he answered, then rolled her out in a spin to get a moment to organize his thoughts before she came twirling back. She gave him an arch look as she returned. "I hear the best time to go is in the fall," he continued, allowing her to believe he had misunderstood her.

"Well, perhaps we could go there sometime," she continued smoothly.

"Perhaps," he conceded. "Or I could just go with my wife." The song ended, and he bowed politely towards the woman as she left with a disappointed look. Bucky resisted the urge to sigh with relief as she left, and the next woman approached.

* * *

Nyssa still wasn't certain how she felt about this arrangement. She didn't mind Bucky dancing with other women, but she didn't particularly like knowing that these people had paid money to dance with her. It seemed innocent enough on the surface, but money did strange things to people. She knew all too well that there were those who might insist on more in order to feel they got their money's worth. The first few were gentlemen, however. They danced, made small talk, and left when it was done. She tried very, very hard not to peek at their thoughts, both out of respect for them and to preserve her own sanity.

She was slightly startled when the next man stepped up and took her hand. Her mind was instantly flooded with his presence and identity. This was Frank Payne, the Constrictor. Concealing the fact that she knew who he was, she smiled at him and moved in time to the music, following his lead.

"Kinda surprised to see someone like you in the Avengers," he commented. She tilted her head at him.

"How so?" she inquired. She felt and saw his shrug.

"I mean, most of them are big, fast and strong. Even Black Widow looks like she can do some damage. But you… you look like someone's kid brother could kill you."

"Looks can be deceiving," she rejoined. "There are many kinds of strength. Surely a man like you could see the value in being underestimated." He snorted at the implied insult.

"I suppose you depend on the others for protection," he sneered.

"You could suppose that," Nyssa agreed, not rising to his baiting. She felt no need to prove her competence to this man. He would find out soon enough what she was capable of. "My husband is very dependable."

"Every wife would like to believe that. Most of them are wrong," His smugness was palpable. "Perhaps you don't know your husband quite as well as you think."

"I would find that… quite surprising," Nyssa responded. Constrictor chuckled.

"I bet you would. So, he's told you about all of the people he's killed, all the assassinations, the tortures?" He was trying to get a reaction out of her, thinking he was revealing new and devastating information. Nyssa smiled calmly up at him.

"There is very little about my husband I don't know," she assured him. "I even know that Viper already offered to make him her second in command." She let that sink in for a heartbeat, saw and felt the shock ripple through him. "That wouldn't be your position, would it?" He froze, his feet ceasing motion although the music continued. Nyssa stopped with him. "She must have neglected to mention it to you. I see." She watched the anger and confusion ripple through him at the betrayal. After a moment, he shook his head with a chuckle that belied the conflict storming inside him.

"She didn't say that," he said flatly. "She would never replace me." Nyssa shrugged.

"You can believe what you like, but I'm not lying. Maybe you should ask her," she suggested. He glanced towards Viper briefly, then shook his head.

"You're just trying to undermine her," he accused. "It's not going to work."

"Am I?" Nyssa returned innocently. "I guess it doesn't matter anyway, since our dance is over." She stepped back and curtsied. He growled and stalked off. Nyssa turned to see the next person waiting for their dance. Smiling at her, she opened her arms in welcome.

* * *

Bucky let himself relax slightly as he watched Constrictor slink away. He had been watching the Viper's henchman since the moment he approached Nyssa, much to the dismay of his dance partner, who tried to engage him in conversation but got distracted, brief responses in return. Bucky felt a little guilty, but mostly just relieved that Nyssa's encounter had ended with her unscathed. He glanced around the hall, wondering what time it was and how much longer this part of the evening would last. The dull, incessant of the crowd and the seemingly unending wave of hungry hands and thirsty gazes were beginning to make him feel itchy. The Bucky from long ago would probably have enjoyed this more; women lined up for a chance to dance with him would have seemed like a dream come true. Now, his idea of a perfect evening was a quiet night with Nyssa, and this seemed like something more like a nightmare. He was itching to make his escape.

Three songs later, his heart nearly stopped as a familiar figure in a lurid green dress stepped up to him, one hand slithering around the back of his neck.

"Viper," he growled. She laid a disapproving finger against his lips and shook her head.

"Ophelia," she corrected him. He glared at her, hoping his mask didn't obscure his loathing. She remained unperturbed and patted his shoulder. "Behave now. I'm not paying $1500 for a dance to be glared at for five minutes."

"Did you actually expect to find a warm welcome here?" Bucky growled at her. She smiled.

"Why wouldn't I?" she asked innocently. His eyes flashed in anger.

"Maybe because you tried to poison the entire fucking city?" he reminded her. She shook her head innocently.

"I have no idea what you're talking about. You must have me confused with someone else." She clucked her tongue at him. "I suppose that's to be expected, given how much trauma you've had to your poor brain." Her sly grin and the knowing glint in her eyes teased him. He suppressed an eye roll as he lifted his arm to pirouette her under it. She wasn't going to confess to anything, and she knew he didn't have any proof. Conversation would be pointless. Silence would at least not give her the satisfaction of his reaction. He concentrated instead on the steps as he maneuvered her around the dance floor. He attention was abruptly pulled to the edge of the dance floor. Nyssa pulled away from the man dancing with her, an indignant look on her face. She was not yelling; he could not hear from this distance what she was saying, but it was clear she was upset. He guided Ophelia over closer to see what was going on.

"…does not entitle you to put your hands wherever you like, or to proposition me in such a crude manner," Nyssa said crisply.

"Our dance isn't over yet," the man pointed out. Nyssa shook her head at him.

"No, the remainder of your dance is forfeit," she said firmly. "I gave you fair warning. If you persist, you can be escorted from grounds." The man scoffed and sneered at her.

"Don't know what else I should have expected from an overpriced whore," he taunted her. Bucky bristled, ready to sprint across the floor and defend Nyssa's honor. She looked placidly at the man, her only reaction a raised eyebrow.

"Obviously a price you were still willing to pay," she replied pointedly. He glared at her and stalked off. Nyssa stood with her arms wrapped around her torso, watching the man leave. Then she walked over to one of the organizers. After a brief exchange, she left, vanishing into a side hallway. She must be more upset than she had initially let on. Bucky went to follow her, but found his hand was still trapped in the Viper's. She smiled charmingly at him.

"We still have two minutes left," she reminded him. "I'm sure your lady wouldn't mind a couple minutes to gather herself, wouldn't you agree?" Reluctantly, Bucky returned to his dance partner. Mentally, he reached out to check on his wife. She was distressed, but not in immediate danger. He turned his attention back to Viper, his eyes narrowing warily.

"Is this all part of your plan?" he asked suspiciously. She blinked at him from behind her mask.

"What plan are you referring to?" she asked. "You poor, confused man." Bucky glared at her and was about to argue when a spike of panic registered on his consciousness. Nyssa was in trouble. With a Russian oath, he pulled away from Viper and sprinted across the dance floor, weaving through the dancing couples. He tore down the hall, following the clarion call in his head. He ducked through a door into a library that was empty save for Nyssa, standing in the corner. Behind her, a man dressed in a shining silver suit of _tatami_ armor held a glowing _katana_ to Nyssa's throat.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "He came out of nowhere." Bucky slowed, Nyssa gasped involuntarily as the Samurai's sword razed against her throat. Blood began to trickle down her neck. Bucky froze.

"Don't take another step if you prefer her head to remain attached to her body," the Silver Samurai warned.

"Let her go," Bucky warned. Harada laughed hollowly.

"Or what?" he asked mockingly. "You are hardly in a position to bargain." Bucky pulled out the firearm he had concealed inside his suit jacket and pointed it at the threat.

"If you harm her, I will not rest until you are dead and buried," Bucky vowed.

"Are you going to shoot me?" Harada asked, with a note of incredulous disdain. "You might kill me, but you definitely would not be able to save her. This blade can slice through anything. If I sneeze, it would pass through her neck like melted butter." Bucky's aim wavered.

"What's going on in here?" Bucky turned at the new voice, training his weapon on the newcomer. Constrictor squared his shoulders in his snakeskin jacket and smirked at Bucky. "Could cut the tension in here with a… well…" He gestured grandly towards the katana still held against Nyssa's neck. He shrugged and stretched his arms wide. Cables suddenly shot out from his sleeves, quickly encircling Bucky and twining around him, pulling tight. Bucky tried to push his way out of the coils, but they only pulled tighter.

"Well, it seems we have this situation well in hand," Viper observed, strolling casually up from behind Bucky. She stopped and looked him up and down. "My offer stands, if you'd rather do this the easy way."

"Fuck you," Bucky spat in reply. Viper tilted her head to the side.

"Perhaps later, if you really insist," she purred. "But first we have some business to attend to." She held up a little red book with a star on the front of it. "You recognize this, don't you?" Bucky's eyes widened.

"How the hell did you get that?" he demanded. The coils looped around his body tightened, and he grunted as they forced air from his lungs. Viper grinned at him.

* * *

Gliding in a circle around her captive, Viper took a moment to savor her triumph. Opening the book, she began reading the Russian words inside. The Winter Soldier began thrashing back and forth, fighting against the control the words had over him. His fighting intensified as she neared the end of the list of words, but Constrictor's cables held. She reached the end, and the Soldier went very still, his face blank, staring straight ahead. With a smug smile, Viper stepped closer.

" _Soldier?"_ she said in Russian.

" _Ready to comply,"_ came the reply. A knock came from the door she had locked behind them. They had a little time left, but perhaps not much. She nodded to Constrictor.

"Let him go," she instructed him. The coils wound around the Winter Solder loosened and retracted, leaving him standing unfettered and waiting. "I do have a mission for you, Soldier. But first, a test." She gestured to Patchwork Doll, still standing very still at the edge of Harada's blade. "Kill her." Silently, the Winter Soldier lifted his arm and aimed his weapon at his wife. The door to the library burst open, and Steve Rogers charged in.

"Why was the door locked?" he asked, then spotted the Winter Soldier just as he pulled the trigger. A shot rang out, and the Doll stumbled backwards, then collapsed on the floor. The Silver Samurai stepped away from her body and approached Steve, his blade still glowing and ready. Steve braced himself for combat, but suddenly found himself wrapped up in cables. He looked frantically over at Constrictor. "What the hell is going on, Buck?" he spluttered. The Winter Soldier ignored him. Viper grinned and produced a flask, which she handed to the Soldier.

"Take this back to the hall," she instructed. "Sprinkle a little bit on each of the dishes at the table. Just a drop will do it." The Winter Soldier nodded and headed for the doorway. Viper chuckled. "Well then, I think it's time for us to go. Bring the Captain. He's seen too much now." The Winter Soldier paused on the threshold. Viper frowned. "What are you waiting for?" she asked. "Go on." He turned back towards her, and she saw he had a little rod in one hand, her flask in the other. A red light illuminated one end of the small metal stick. Deliberately, he tucked the flask of poison inside his jacket. In two long strides, he closed the distance between them. With a swift, smooth motion, he grabbed Viper's arms and brought them behind her back. She resisted, but suddenly found herself face down on the ground with the weight of the former assassin pressing down on her back. Metal handcuffs clicked as he pressed them around her wrists.

"Viper, I mean Ophelia Sarkissian, you are under arrest for domestic terrorism," he informed her. "You have the right to remain silent, but I don't particularly care if you do or not." She gaped at him.

"But you… how….?" She stammered.

"Those words don't work on me anymore," he informed her with satisfaction. She stared at him, agape, then frowned.

"So you willingly killed your own wife?" she said incredulously.

"Rumors of my death have been… somewhat exaggerated," the Patchwork Doll chirped cheerfully from the corner. She was standing easily, twin guns in hand and trained on Viper's two assistants. "Release Captain America and surrender your weapons, please."

"I think not," Harada spat, standing with his sword at the ready. He stood there for a moment, and his expression went from triumphant to confused. Dropping one hand from the hilt of his sword, he looked down at his armored fingers and muttered something in Japanese.

"Did you lose something?" The Doll trilled, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"How did you…? Give me back my ring!" Harada yelled, running at her, blade ready to descend upon her neck. He slashed down, but found his motion halted as a crimson aura materialized around him. Viper turned to see a woman dressed in red standing in the doorway, hands raised, belly full and round with child. With a gesture, she slowly peeled the layers of his samurai armor away from his body, piling the shining silver in a heap across the room, leaving him in a simple grey kimono. The katana shook violently in his hands, then leapt out of his grip, floating towards the crimson woman. He grunted as his arms twisted behind his back as if of their own volition.

Constrictor watched all of this with wide eyes, still standing with his metal coils wound around Captain America. Steve leveled a stern look at the remaining free henchman.

"Are you going to surrender, or does Wanda have to strip you, too?" Steve asked nonchalantly. Constrictor swallowed nervously, glancing around the room at the heroes watching him expectantly.

* * *

"How dare you handle me so roughly!" Ophelia screeched as they loaded her in the back of the police van. "Do you know who I am?"

"I don't care if you're the Queen of Sheba," the officer replied. "You're under arrest. Just get in the van." The crowd that had gathered to see the guests arrive now crowded around the police perimeter. Hanging back along the edges, Bucky, Steve, Wanda and Nyssa watched their adversaries being hauled away by law enforcement. A sense of satisfaction and relief hung palpably over them.

"The only thing I still don't understand," Steve said suddenly, turning to face Bucky and Nyssa. "I saw you shoot her. Point blank. But she's completely unharmed." Nyssa grinned at him and tugged a bit of brightly colored fabric up from underneath the neckline of her dress.

"I'm wearing a chemise made from Wakandan fabric, with vibranium woven into it," she explained. "It seemed prudent to take some precautions. Especially given my most recent brush with death." Bucky gave her hand a squeeze at the mention of recent events. She smiled up at him and leaned her head against his shoulder.

"And it was… necessary to convince Viper that she did have control, at least until she gave us the proof we needed," Bucky concluded. Steve nodded.

"For a minute there, you almost had _me_ convinced," he admitted. "The look on your face… it was like the Winter Soldier had taken over again." Bucky shrugged and sighed.

"Yeah, well…." He brushed his temple briefly. "He's still rattling around in there. I just don't let him drive very often." Steve regarded his friend seriously for a moment, then pulled something out of the inside pocket of his suit jacket.

"I thought you might want this," he said, holding the red book out to Bucky. Bucky's eyes widened. Hesitantly, he reached out and took the book.

"The police don't need it?" he asked. Steve shook his head.

"Her charges are for trying to poison the city, not for trying to coerce you." He shrugged. "If they come looking for it, I'll explain how it got lost." Bucky gave a crooked half-grin and tucked the book away. Wanda took a deep breath.

"Well, that was an exciting party, wasn't it?" she said drolly. Placing a hand on her swollen abdomen, she exhaled slowly. With her other hand, she reached out and grasped Nyssa's hand. "Can you go find Vision? I think I need to get to the hospital."

"Are you hurt?" Steve asked sharply. Wanda shook her head, a soft smile curving her lips.

"No, I'm not injured," she assured him. "But I think the baby is coming."

* * *

 **Thanks to DarylDixon'sLover, Qweb and karina001 for the reviews! They are always very appreciated.**

 **My apologies for how long this chapter took. Time to write has been scarce. The next chapter will hopefully not take quite as long.**


	12. Cause for Celebration

**Disclaimer: Marvel Characters are property of Marvel. Original Characters are mine. Just for fun, not for profit.**

* * *

 **Cause for Celebration**

Nyssa accompanied Wanda and Vision to the hospital at Wanda's request. Bucky returned to their apartment alone for the second time in the past weeks. The emptiness was less oppressive when he knew she would be returning soon. Darshan met him at the door, sitting politely as he had been trained, but hardly able to contain the wiggle in his tail. He nuzzled Bucky's hand in welcome, trotting in a circle in greeting, but then circled back to the door and watched it expectantly. Bucky sighed and shook his head.

"She probably won't be back for a while. You'll have to make do with me for now," he informed the canine. Darshan whined softly and didn't move. With a sigh, Bucky made his way into the living room, ditching the mask, tie and jacket across the back of an empty chair. Something hard in the jacket reminded him it wasn't empty, and he pulled the red book from the dark pocket. Unbuttoning his dress shirt, he sat down on the couch next to the lamp on the end table. The soft light fell upon the pages of the book as he paged slowly through it. His trigger words were indexed in the back, but the rest of the book held more of interest for Bucky. He started at the beginning and slowly paged through. It was couched in clinical terms but detailed the events of his capture and treatment at the hands of Hydra. Every torture session that it had taken to break him, every experiment to turn him into the Winter Soldier, and the results. Detailed protocols for his treatment before and after cryofreeze. Then the details of each mission he was sent on, how many fatalities, whether he had completed every objective. The language used was antiseptic and anesthetized, but the memories they triggered were anything but. He drew in a ragged breath and closed his eyes as the raw, disturbing images were brought to the forefront of his mind. A warm weight suddenly pressed into his lap, and he opened his eyes and moved the book to see Darshan staring up at him in concern, his head resting on top of Bucky's thighs. He exhaled and stroked the dog's head, scratching behind his ears. The lurid memories faded, the associated emotions slowly ebbing away. Closing the book, he set it aside. Thus far, it had held no surprises, but he wanted to be sure it held no other secrets from his past. He would read through it more carefully another time. Darshan jumped up onto the couch and settled himself into Bucky's lap. Bucky scratched the dog's neck with a dry chuckle.

"So, now I'm worthy of attention, huh?" he remarked teasingly. Darshan snuffled. Bucky pushed the dog aside and stood up. "C'mon, boy. Time for bed."

* * *

Between the unsettling reminder of his time with Hydra and the empty bed that he was no longer accustomed to, Bucky spent a restless night. Usually Nyssa helped to keep the nightmares at bay, but tonight they were back in full force, disrupting his sleep with unsettling images and renewed memories that he had allowed to fade. He awakened at sunrise feeling less refreshed than usual but dragged himself out of bed. He was starting to get concerned that Nyssa still hadn't returned. He contemplated calling. He knew babies took time, but he was also aware that Nyssa was operating on very little sleep at this point. He started the coffee maker, half hoping the aroma of the freshly brewed elixir would work its magic and summon her home. He snapped Darshan's leash on and took him for a quick morning walk to stretch his legs and conduct his morning business. He returned to their apartment in anticipation but did not sense that she was inside. He sighed when he opened the door to find it still empty. Balaur was still curled up in a greenish-bronze ball on the rock in his habitat, tendrils of steam rising from his nostrils as he slumbered. Bucky crossed the kitchen to the refrigerator and opened it, contemplating breakfast.

"So that's what that does," Nyssa said thoughtfully from right behind him. He jumped and turned in surprise. He hadn't heard the door, hadn't felt her draw near. It was as if she had appeared out of thin air. She had removed her headdress but was still clad in her ball gown. Her day-old makeup did little to conceal the fatigue on her face.

"How did you…" Bucky began, but stopped as she held up a silver ring.

"This was the ring I took from the Silver Samurai," she explained. "Apparently, it allows you to teleport. Which would explain how they stole your book from the CIA in Berlin." He raised his eyebrows at her.

"I'm not sure if I'm more impressed by the fact that they had a teleportation ring, or by the fact that you managed to get it off his hand while he had a sword to your throat," Bucky commented. Nyssa grinned.

"Well, considering he was wearing it underneath his armored glove…." Nyssa let her voice trail off as Bucky stared at her, baffled.

"What? Wait, how the hell…" She shook her head at him with an impish smile.

"Air of mystery, my love," she admonished, reaching up to caress his cheek. He shook his head at her with a tolerant smile.

"So how is Wanda?" he asked, changing the subject. "And the baby?" Nyssa's smile turned maudlin.

"Wanda is doing well. She is resting now. And the baby… she's perfect. Tiny and full of life and promise."

"And she hasn't brought on the Apocalypse yet, so that's always a bonus," Bucky added dryly. Nyssa rolled her eyes at him.

"She's a baby, not the Antichrist. She probably won't come into her full power for a few years yet," she replied. Stretching her arms over her head, she yawned. "And I should probably go crawl into bed before I fall over."

"Mind if I join you?" Bucky asked. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"I wasn't planning on doing anything other than sleeping," she informed him. He shrugged.

"Neither was I," he replied. "It was kind of a short night for me, too. I don't sleep as well on my own anymore." With a smile, she caught his hand in hers.

"Well, in that case, maybe you can help undo my dress." She led him back to the bedroom, Darshan dancing excitedly around her feet but careful not to trip her. She paused by the bed with her back towards Bucky. He carefully opened the delicate hook and eye fastenings along her spine, then slid the soft material down off her shoulders. She sighed as the confining garments dropped to the floor, freeing her body. Bucky ran his hands over her bare arms, brushed a kiss at the nape of her neck and pulled her in closer. There was something both innocent and intimate about the moment, the slow undressing without the urgent intention of passion, and he felt a wave of affection and gratitude. An answering surge of love and appreciation rippled back to him from her. They curled up in the bed together under the covers. Within minutes, Nyssa was asleep. Bucky brushed a stray lock of hair out of her face and watched her sleeping, his gaze tracing her peaceful features. The weight and warmth of her body against his was a comfort. Before too long, his eyes grew heavy, and he again slept.

* * *

 _He found himself in a place he did not recognize, but his dream-self knew as home. He could hear singing and made his way towards the sound, down a long hallway. At the end of the hall was a door. It opened silently with a push. The room inside was appointed in white and pastels. The chair by the window was rocking gently. The quiet singing sounded like Nyssa's voice, but the chair was turned so he could not see who was sitting there. He walked around to the front of the chair. Nyssa continued her lullaby but tilted her head up to smile at him and pulled back the blanket swaddling the bundle in her arms. The baby nestled against her chest stirred and opened eyes blue as a clear summer sky before settling down to sleep again. A swell of pride and love crashed through him, with an unmistakable sense of belonging. His child. His family. His kin._

* * *

He awakened feeling more refreshed after two hours of sleep than the five he had gotten previously. Nyssa was still curled up on her side, sleeping soundly. He pushed his tousled hair back into some semblance of order with his hands as he padded silently into the kitchen and began making preparations for this special day. He wanted everything to be perfect, and the events of the night before had already thrown his plans off. But he could be both flexible and resourceful. He would make do.

The smell of freshly ground coffee and frying sausages roused Nyssa from her slumber. She stretched lazily in the bed. Bucky's side of the bed was cold, but his presence in the kitchen was obvious. Darshan whined from his post in the doorway, alerting Bucky to the fact that she was awake. He movements became more hurried, and Nyssa let herself relax a few minutes longer, cocooned in comfort. It wasn't long before Bucky came down the hallway and into the bedroom. The mattress shifted under his weight as he sat down next to her on the bed.

"Good morning and happy anniversary," he said quietly. She grinned up at him and sat up in the bed, shifting backwards to prop herself with pillows against the headboard. "Here." She put her hands out, and he handed her a bowl. "Breakfast bowl with all your favorites. Coffee's on the nightstand. And this…" He paused and set something heavy on the bed beside her. "…is your anniversary gift. I, ah, didn't wrap it." She grinned at him.

"Just how I like it. Everything is perfect, thank you." She leaned forward to kiss him, then took a large bite of the contents on her bowl. She savored the flavors and made appreciative noises. Bucky sat still on the edge of the bed, watching her. She swallowed and tilted her head slightly to the side. "Where's yours?" she asked.

"I was mostly focused on you," he admitted. "Wanted to make it special for you."

"It is special," she assured him. "But it's not just my day. It's our day." She waved her fork at him, nearly scraping the end of his nose with it. "No need for you to go hungry on my account."

"I'm hardly starving," Bucky pointed out wryly.

"No, but you are hungry," Nyssa argued. She lifted her fork loaded with eggs, cheese, sausage and hash browns, aiming it for his mouth. "I will share mine with you." He feinted a dodge, and she corrected course with a chuckle. He came back and devoured the proffered forkful with a hungry growl. Still chewing, he moved closer to her in the bed, pulling his legs up and lying down next to her. Playfully, she continued to feed him a portion of her breakfast, alternating with a bite for him, then a bite for her. Their shared meal was punctuated with laughter, and her smile seemed to make the food taste even better. A few times he had to move his head to intercept a mouthful, but her aim was generally impressive for a blind woman. They polished off the remainder of the food, and she traded the empty bowl for the mug full of coffee.

"Do I get half of that as well?" Bucky asked teasingly. Nyssa clutched her mug possessively.

"Not half, but you can have a sip," she decided, holding the mug out to him. He laughed.

"That's okay, I don't need any," he assured her. She took a sip and set the mug back on the nightstand to turn her attention to the heavy box at her feet. She settled it in her lap and reached inside. She picked up one of the items and turned it over in her hands, her fingers exploring the surface for clues.

"Glass and wood," she said meditatively. "Did you make these?"

"I did," Bucky confirmed. Her mouth curved upwards as she continued her inspection. Her fingers found the raised word on the top of the wooden cap, and the raised braille letters underneath.

"Cinnamon," she read out loud. Comprehension dawned on her face, and her fingers danced along the tops of the other jars left in the box. "Oregano, garlic, basil, cumin, paprika… You made a complete set, didn't you?"

"I just thought it would make your life easier if you could find them faster, without having to open jars and smell them to see if you have the right one," Bucky explained, feeling sheepish.

"You're not wrong," Nyssa agreed. "These are amazing." She picked up one of them and took the cap off, smelling the contents inside. "Good quality spices, too." She replaced the cap and placed the spice jar back in the box with the others, her fingers continuing to trace the labels with a broad smile. "You obviously put a ton of work into these. Beautiful and practical. I love it. And you." She leaned over and kissed him thoroughly, leaving him breathless. She ended the kiss but left her face close to his, her fingers tracing up his jawline and around the curve of his ear, finding all the spots that made his insides simultaneously shiver and melt. "Now, go into the top drawer in my dresser and bring me the package you find there." He obeyed, opening the top drawer to a kaleidoscope of underthings. Some were lacy, some more practical, but it took an effort not to be distracted by them. In the corner, he found a collection of various boxes, as well as a stash of adult toys and bottles of lube. Most of them were familiar to Bucky, but maybe one of them was new?"

"Um, which…" he asked uncertainly.

"There's a flattish box, smooth finish, a little larger than a standard piece of paper," she answered, approximating size with her hands. He shoved aside a stack of beribboned panties and located the box beneath it. Bringing it back over to the bed, he set it on the blanket and opened it up. "Now, it isn't handmade or practical, but I hope you'll like it anyway," she said, a trace of nervousness in the way she knotted her fingers together in front of her. "Traditionally, the first anniversary gift is supposed to be paper, so it is mostly paper, but it's also more than that." Bucky frowned down at the contents of the box, paging through them slowly. There was a star chart, a certificate, some informational pamphlets and a framed deed announcing that there was a binary star system with stars named Nyssa and Bucky. He frowned down at the papers.

"You… bought me a star?" he asked incredulously. Nyssa laughed softly.

"Kind of," she clarified. "You don't own the actual star, and astronomers aren't going to put the names on any actual star charts. It's just on their registry. But I liked the idea that we can look up at the night sky and know that, somewhere out there, our stars are together. Even if there are times when we can't be." A little half-grin tugged the corner of his mouth upwards as he examined the star map, but he didn't reply. The silence stretched between them, Bucky absorbing the details of his gift. Nyssa shifted in the bed. "I know, it's kind of silly. I just thought…" She stopped as Bucky folded his hand over hers.

"I love it," he assured her, and leaned over to kiss her thoroughly. Spice jars and star charts were pushed aside as he showed her exactly how much he loved her and her thoughtful gift.

* * *

They lay together atop twisted sheets and blankets afterwards, perspiration slowly cooling their entwined bodies. She was half-sprawled across his chest, her head pillowed atop his shoulder, nestled against his body as if she was designed to fit perfectly against him. He ran his hand up over her shoulder blade and light traced the curve of her neck with two fingers. She shivered slightly.

"So, what did you want to do now?" he asked. She half-smothered a giggle against his chest.

"I wouldn't mind a repeat of what we just did," she murmured, tracing shapes across his chest and abdomen. He made a noise deep in his throat as he felt his body responding to her touch once more.

"I won't argue with that," he murmured. "You want to spend the day in bed, that's fine by me." She hummed in agreement as she kissed her way down his body. She paused just south of his belly button and raised her head.

"Of course, I did promise Wanda I would come back to see them. And you still have to meet Petra," she recalled. Bucky's chuckle in response only half-masked his frustration that she had stopped.

"We can do that later, too," he averred. She smiled knowingly and returned to her tender ministrations, moving lower as she teased his most sensitive areas with her skillful mouth. Conversation and coherent thought slipped away, leaving only sensation and passion.

* * *

Thought returned slowly, reluctantly, as Bucky lay basking in the feelings of contentment and satisfaction. He ran his hand leisurely down the curve of Nyssa's back and rested it on the soft roundness at its base. He took a deep breath in as his heart seemed to swell. He already loved her more than he would have believed possible, but somehow that love grew even more the longer they were together. He pondered recent events and recalled his dream. He tightened his arm, pulling her firmly against him.

"Babies and kids really do seem to love you," he noted, recalling her interactions with Aaron and other small children. Nyssa chuckled into his chest.

"Mmmph. Most people respond well if you make an effort to understand them," she pointed out. "Babies and children are no different. I'm sure it also helps that I'm closer to their size than most adults."

"And you really seem to enjoy them, too," Bucky continued meditatively. "You light right up when you're around them." Nyssa's smile faded slightly, and she raised her face towards him. He took a deep breath. "What if we had one of our own?" She regarded him silently for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then she grinned broadly.

"James Buchanan Barnes, are you saying you want to have a baby with me?" she said teasingly. He felt his face grow warm.

"Yes, I guess I am," he replied. She kissed the edge of his jaw.

"I will take the idea with the very sweet intention behind it," she responded. "But we've already had this discussion. You know that I can't. I'm missing some very necessary parts. And I can sense that you're not talking about adopting…."

"No, I've been thinking about it," Bucky countered. "The technology they have now is just mind-blowing. If they can replace my arm and get Rhodes walking again, why couldn't they fix that, too?" She sat up, putting more distance between them.

"And what if they can't?" she asked softly, facing away from him.

"We don't know unless we look into it," he argued. "I think it's worth trying. Especially with your gifts. Those would be worth passing on." She stood up abruptly and crossed the room to the dresser.

"So, you're saying I have some kind of obligation to reproduce by any means possible because of my genetics?" she asked bitterly, rummaging through drawers and pulling out articles of clothing. Bucky sat up on the edge of the bed.

"No! I'm just saying… the world could use more of you, that's all," he protested. It had sounded more complimentary in his head than coming out of his mouth. Nyssa snorted.

"It's not automatic, you know," she shot back as she pulled on her panties. "Grandmother had her gifts, and she was one of the coldest and most ruthless people I ever met."

"Yes, but you will be there to hopefully instill the right values, so they would be more like you than she was," he contended. She shot him a startled look and paused in her dressing.

"Is that what this is about? You're hoping I would stay home with the kids, stay out of trouble? Stop being a superhero and just be a mom?" Something in her expression made him want to vehemently deny it, but it was no use to lie to her.

"That may have been a very small part of my thought process," he admitted. "But by no means the main reason." His own temper flared. "Even if it was, is it such a terrible thing to want to keep you safe?"

"What good is it to protect someone if you have to keep them from living their life to do it?" she retorted. "I can keep myself safe. I survived for years before I met you!" She yanked a shirt angrily over her head.

"I thought you would be happy about it," Bucky said, gesturing in frustration. "Or is it that you don't want it? You don't want to have my children?" Nyssa made a sound somewhere between a sigh and a sob.

"Bucky, if I were going to have children with anyone, it would be with you. It's not that I don't want it. It's that I can't want it." She finished dressing and started scuffing her feet along the floor, hunting for her shoes.

"Well, if you want it, why don't we look and see what possibilities there are out there? What can it hurt to try?" Bucky pressed. She didn't turn towards him, but remained focused on the floor and her feet as she pulled on her shoes. "Where are you going?" She turned to face him, and he saw tears trickling down her cheeks.

"I know you mean well." Her voice was barely above a strangled whisper. "I'm standing here, smothered by your good intentions and drowning in your perspective. I just… need to go for a walk. Somewhere I can think." She paced through the bedroom door and down the hallway. He heard her whistling for Darshan, and then the front door closed loudly. He muttered Russian profanity and punched the mattress. That hadn't gone how he planned it, at all.

* * *

 **Thanks to karina001, Qweb and DarylDixon'sLover for the reviews! Much appreciated, as always.**


	13. Commiserations and Explanations

**Disclaimer: Marvel Characters are property of Marvel. Original Characters are mine. Just for fun, not for profit.**

* * *

 **Commiserations and Explanations**

The first hour after she left, he prowled around the apartment, rehashing the conversation in his head and trying to figure out where he had gone wrong. He had anticipated her reaction to be somewhere on the spectrum between elated agreement or teasing refusal. He had not expected tears and distress, the last thing he wanted to cause her. He was torn between wanting to go after her and wanting to respect her request for space; wanting to leave and do something to distract himself and wanting to wait until she returned so he didn't miss her. After that first hour passed, he had an epiphany. He had simply approached the question without enough information. If he had a concrete plan with a good chance of success, it would bolster his argument that it was worth a try. He wasn't caught up on all the latest medical technology, but he did know some of the smartest people in the world. There was one he could think of that he would trust with a sensitive question like this. Sitting down at his workstation, he sent a quick written query to Shuri. If anyone could come up with the solution, she would.

As the clock continued to tick by, he grew frustrated with waiting. He left the apartment and went to his workshop. He had finished his most recent project, and didn't have any others planned, but there were chunks of wood in his scrap bin large enough to do something with. He wiped down all the surfaces, making sure to clean up any stray sawdust. He picked up a chunk of four by four and laid it on the table. He stared at it for awhile, turning it this way and that as he tried to imagine how to shape the wood. His mind wasn't focusing, and after a few minutes, he tossed it back into the scrap bin with a frustrated shake of his head. He glanced at the tools lined up with military precision on his workbench, and his gaze fell on the router bit set he had borrowed from Clint. Now was as good a time as any to return it, he supposed. Picking it up and tucking it under his arm, he left.

* * *

Bucky knocked on the door of the suite that the Bartons called home. He could hear laughter, screeching and rowdy conversation on the other side of the door. Nobody answered, so he knocked again, louder this time. The noise inside the large apartment dropped away, then it sounded like a herd of buffalo were stampeding towards him. He took a step back from the door just in case. It flew open, and three sets of eyes stared at Bucky. Nate scowled and shoved at Lila.

"Lilaaah," he whined, "I wanted to open the door."

"Ow, Nate, stop pushing!" Lila scolded. "You can open the door next time." The third face smiled shyly at Bucky, wreathed in golden curls.

"Hi, Uncle Bucky," she said bashfully.

"Hi, Gabriele," he replied. "Is your dad home?" All three faces nodded immediately.

"Kids, don't crowd him, let him in," Laura called from inside the apartment. They scattered, and Bucky stepped inside. Laura was moving around the apartment's kitchen, spatula in hand, as multiple sandwiches sizzled on the griddle on the counter. "Hello, Bucky," she greeted him. "What brings you to visit our domestic chaos?" With an impish grin, she waved her spatula to include the rooms around her. Toys, books and clothing were scattered over furniture, on the floor and over tables. Most of the couch cushions were on the floor, blankets draped over them in makeshift forts. Nate climbed on the back of the couch and dove into the blankets and cushions with a war cry. Gracie shrieked in laughter and crawled out from inside the fort, then climbed the couch and jumped directly on top of Nate's blanketed form. Lila and Gabriele raced across the room to where a card table was set up with a tool chest next to it. Gears, wires and random parts were scattered around a squat, half-assembled machine. Bucky held up the router bits.

"Just returning these," he explained. Laura nodded, deftly flipping the sandwiches on the griddle.

"So that's where those went. I think Clint forgot, he was looking for them the other day. He and Cooper are fixing a broken drawer in my dresser. Did you want to stay for lunch? Nothing fancy, just grilled ham and cheese." It smelled delicious, and Bucky's stomach rumbled, reminding him that he was, in fact, hungry, and that he had no plans for lunch. He ran a hand through his hair.

"Um, sure," he reluctantly agreed.

"Great!" Laura responded cheerfully. "I'll cook up one more batch and then we should be set. Do you want to set the table?" She gestured to one of the cupboards. "Seven – no, eight of us."

"Sure." Bucky got a stack of plates out of the cupboard and set them around the table, then wandered over to see what Lila and Gabriele were working on. Lila had her lower lip caught between her teeth as she carefully inserted wires into a rectangular board. Gabriele was painstakingly bolting a cylinder onto the assembly of nuts, bolts, gears and oddly shaped metal scraps. "What are you two working on?" he asked.

"Food recycler," Lila replied distractedly. "It's an independent study project for school." She slid an electronic tablet towards him with one hand. Bucky picked it up and raised his eyebrows at the schematic on the screen. Descriptions of the different features floated around the image, and complex equations filled in most of the empty spaces around those. He frowned as he read the parts he understood.

"So, wait, this takes food…. And turns it into other food?" he asked. Lila shrugged.

"I mean, it could." She finished tightening the wires and set the part aside. "That's not the intended purpose, though."

"So what's it's purpose?" Bucky asked. Lila grinned and took the tablet from him. With a few quick finger strokes, she pulled up an animation.

"I'm trying to solve two different problems at the same time," she explained. "One is the problem of excess waste, particularly food waste. Did you know that a full third of the food we produce every year is thrown away? And yet, we have people going hungry in every country in the world." She flipped the tablet around and showed Bucky the cartoon animation. "The concept is pretty simple. Food that nobody wants to eat goes in the top. Inside the chamber, it gets disassembled on a molecular level and stored in the elemental compartments. Now, someone hungry comes along. They can choose from one of the pre-programmed food options, and the machine builds it from the molecules it has stored. The little window rises up, and they can get their freshly made food."

"That's… really impressive," Bucky asserted. "Ambitious." Lila shook her head with a grin.

"This is just the prototype," she replied. "Once I get the bugs worked out and a few more made, I'm hoping to have one of these bad boys outside of every restaurant in the city."

"I'm going to be in charge of the business side," Gabriele interjected.

"Oh, really?" Bucky said with a grin. He couldn't imagine that a fourteen-year-old would know much about running a business. She nodded soberly.

"You just have to find the angle that convinces them it's worth it. Our food recycler is going to cost a little more up front, but then will save them a lot of money because they won't have to use waste disposal services," she pointed out. "Plus, once we perfect the tech, we can turn anything into anything else. The options are limitless."

"Better file that with the patent office, then," Bucky said with a grin. "You could be richer than Tony Stark."

"I already picked up the paperwork," Gabriele assured him, holding it up. "If everything goes to plan, we could make enough to take everyone on vacation. Maybe put some away for college."

"But the important part will be that it will be easier to feed hungry people," Lila argued.

"Okay, lunch is ready!" Laura announced as she carried a platter stacked high with sandwiches. "Nate, can you go tell your father and Cooper to come and eat?" Nate dove off the back of the couch and sprinted down the hallway, returning a couple minutes later. Jumping up in his chair, he grabbed one of the sandwiches from the platter and began to devour it. Laura set a dish of baby carrots and a bag of chips at the table as the others gathered around and settled into their places. Clint and Cooper joined them at the table. Clint looked slightly surprised to see Bucky, but merely inclined his head in greeting. For the first several minutes, silence fell around the table as everyone dug in. The simple meal was delicious and satisfying. Clint was the first to break the silence, swallowing down a mouthful of food and clearing his throat.

"Cooper, did you tell your mom yet?" he said conspiratorially. Cooper gave his father a sharp look, a pink flush creeping over his cheeks. Laura looked at her eldest son questioningly.

"Tell me what?" she asked. For a moment, Cooper looked embarrassed as everyone's attention turned to him, but then a wide grin spread across his face.

"I got into Cornell!" he announced in excitement. Laura's face lit up, and she leaned over to throw her arms around him.

"I'm so proud of you!" For a moment, she looked misty-eyed.

"Hey, congratulations," Bucky contributed. "That's a huge deal. Do you know what you want to study?" Cooper nodded.

"Ag science. I think." He looked uncertain for a moment. Clint chuckled.

"If you change your mind, that's okay too. Most new college kids do, or so I hear," he mused. Cooper frowned.

"Didn't you go to college, Dad?" he asked. Clint shook his head.

"Didn't need to go to college to work for the circus. And my… other employers preferred to do the training themselves," he said cryptically. Bucky took another bite of his sandwich and pondered how much of Clint's past he kept a secret from his family.

"How about you, Uncle Bucky?" Gabriele piped up. "Did you go to college?" Bucky shook his head.

"Not for long. I went to war instead," he replied. Lila tilted her head to the side and contemplated him with narrowed eyes.

"Isn't today your anniversary?" she recalled.

"Lila," Laura chided.

"What? It is," Lila insisted. "So why is he here rather than with Auntie Nyssa?" Bucky sighed.

"I – we had a… disagreement, and she decided to go for a walk. By herself," he admitted.

"First big fight, huh?" Clint offered sympathetically. Bucky winced inwardly.

"What did you fight about?" Nate asked, reaching for another sandwich from the platter.

"Nate!" Laura scolded. "That's not our business."

"Why not?" he asked.

"Because it's _personal._ It's not something a person wants to discuss in front of a lot of other people, even if they are friends," Laura explained.

"No, it's okay," Bucky said quietly. "I, ah… think she would make a great mom. Apparently, she's not so sure." Laura sat up straighter and looked at him keenly. Lila and Gabriele exchanged excited glances, and Lila clapped.

"Are you guys _pregnant?_ " she asked eagerly. Bucky sighed.

"No, nothing like that," he denied. Standing, he pushed away from the table. "I should probably go home. I'd rather be there when she gets back." Laura stood.

"I'll walk with you," she offered. Bucky frowned slightly.

"That's not really necessary," he protested. Laura shrugged.

"I don't mind." She gave him a significant look. He sighed.

"All right."

* * *

They hadn't gone far down the hallway before Laura resumed the conversation.

"I thought Nyssa couldn't have children." It was a statement, but her tone made it a question. Bucky shook his head.

"She can't, but I thought… with the technology we have today, maybe we could find a way to… help with that." Laura stopped short in the middle of the corridor. Bucky paused, half-turning towards her. "What?" She shook her head at him.

"Didn't you two discuss that before you got married?" she asked. Bucky nodded.

"We did, but… that was before I saw how she was with kids, with babies… I thought she would jump at the chance to figure out a way to have one of her own. One of our own." Laura rolled her eyes with a half-smile.

"Bucky, you are an intelligent and honorable man, but sometimes you are a fool." Her tone was still affectionate, and Bucky felt more tired than offended. He shrugged.

"You get no argument from me. Social skills weren't high on my Hydra training list, and the world has changed a lot in seventy years. Mostly, I just figure she knows better than I do with that kind of thing, so I follow her lead," he admitted. Laura's expression softened, then shifted to impressed.

"Well, that's a unique approach," she observed. "But I bet it's effective."

"Mostly it seems to work okay. This was our first major fight." Bucky grimaced. "So how badly did I fuck up with this one?" Laura sighed and looked down at the floor for a moment before looking back up at him.

"I had two miscarriages before we had Cooper. It's a… complicated kind of grief, to mourn the loss of something that society tells you is supposed to be the defining characteristic of your gender. Especially when it's something you really do want to share with someone you love. Obviously, it wasn't a permanent problem in my case, but we didn't know that at the time. If it had been permanent, would I have wanted to keep going, keep trying, spending more time and money, hoping against hope but knowing it might all be in vain?" She shook her head slightly. "I don't know. That wasn't my path to walk." She reached out and clasped Bucky's hand in both of hers. "Just talk to your wife. More importantly, listen. The strongest marriages aren't the ones who never fight. They're the ones who know that the fight doesn't have to be the end." Bucky gripped her hand in gratitude, feeling hopeful for the first time since Nyssa had left that morning.

* * *

She wasn't in the apartment when he returned, but he could sense she was nearby. He sat down on the couch and turned on the television, trying to pretend that her walk hadn't rattled him in the slightest. He heard the door open and Darshan's nails clicked softly on the floor as he went to settle himself in the bed-lined crate that was his den when he wasn't on duty. Bucky glanced over to see Nyssa taking off her coat. She had donned sunglasses; something she only did when she didn't have the energy to fool people into thinking she was still sighted.

"Hey," he greeted her. "Glad you're back." She paused and tilted her head to the side.

"Was my return in doubt?" she asked. He shrugged.

"The possibility crossed my mind," he admitted. She shook her head at him.

"I'm not intending to leave. But we do need to talk." She sat down beside him on the couch, her body turned towards his. "I have something I need to tell you, first, and I need you to just listen. If there's any parts of it that you want to discuss, we can do that afterwards. But... I need to get this out, before I lose my nerve. But I owe you an explanation, at least." Her hands were resting in her lap, her right hand twisting the wedding ring on the left. A tear slid down her cheek from behind her sunglasses, but she ignored it. Silently, Bucky took her hands in his, waiting patiently. She took a deep breath.

"When I was… at the mercy of the traffickers, they made me do many things that I didn't want to do. I tried to escape a few times, at first, but never made it very far. After a couple months, I… started to lose hope that I could ever get away, but worse, I started to believe the things they told me. That I was ruined forever, that nobody would ever want me, that I was only good for one thing." She shook her head slightly. "It didn't help that they honestly believed it, and I could read it in their minds. I was a confused teenager in mourning, and very impressionable. So I cried myself to sleep when they gave me a chance to rest, but resigned myself to my fate. Then, a few months later, I realized that I was pregnant. Usually they had things to take care of that, but they didn't give them to me. By the time I was starting to show, I realized what their plans were. They were going to take the baby and use her, the same way they used me, for their clients with a taste for… the tenderest flesh." Revulsion and rage rose in the back of Bucky's throat, but he tried to choke it back. Not for the first time, he contemplated hunting down every last person who had used her and abused her and making them die slow, painful deaths. But she needed his support and attention right now, not revenge fantasies. She had stopped to gather her thoughts. Taking a deep breath, he reached up and gently wiped away the tears from her cheeks without a word. She drew in a shaky breath and smiled at him before continuing.

"I had lost the motivation to save myself, but I couldn't, wouldn't, let them do that to my baby. I became determined that I would escape their clutches and set out on my own. I didn't know how I was going to raise a child on my own at fifteen, but I was not deterred by that. Phoenix and I made our plan and made our escape. I could scarcely believe it. I even named the baby, after that. She was Hope, because that's what she gave back to me. But then… the Enforcer found me, and nearly killed me. I don't know how much later it was that I woke up in the hospital, but they told me that, not only had they not been able to save the baby, but they had to take everything except one ovary to keep me from bleeding to death. So, just like that, I went from planning to be a mother to having to accept that I would never be one, even though I had always wanted to be." She paused for another moment, then forged ahead. "Of all the injuries I had, that loss hurt the worst. She had saved me, but I couldn't save her. It took me a long time to get over it. Sometimes I still have moments where the grief rolls over me, like a wave. You asked what it could hurt, to try and see if maybe it's possible to have a biological child. Honestly, I don't know if I could bear it, to embrace that hope again, only to have it snatched away if it doesn't work out. Maybe that makes me a coward." Bucky let out a sharp, audible breath and shook his head, but she wasn't done. "This is why I made it very clear that children weren't in the cards before we got married. I thought we both agreed on that. Bucky, I love you, and I have been so happy being your wife. More than my fifteen year old self would have ever dreamed possible. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. But your happiness is important to me. So, if you've changed your mind, and children are something you need to be happy, then… maybe I'm not the person you should be with." Bucky's heart dropped.

"Are you saying you want a divorce?" he asked. She shook her head vehemently.

"I absolutely do not want a divorce," she said firmly. "But if you want to stay with me, then I need to know that you are happy with us, just as we are. That you aren't going to resent me someday for not giving you children." His breath fled from his lungs, and he pulled her in close with one arm and took her sunglasses off with the other one. Her eyes were red and swollen, but at the moment they were dry. He caressed her cheek softly.

"I still have mornings I have to pinch myself to make sure I'm not dreaming. Or dead and in heaven," he assured her. "Nothing makes me happier than being with you. Plus, we have a dog. And a dragon. It might be the strangest family I've ever seen." Nyssa chuckled softly against his shoulder, and he kissed the top of her head. "But I wouldn't trade it for anything." She nestled her head happily in the crook of his shoulder, and he stroked her back. "I certainly wouldn't leave you over some hypothetical children." She raised her head with a rueful smile.

"See, you may think it's ridiculous, but I've lost more than one relationship for that exact reason," she informed him. "I was worried it was happening again."

"Well, those guys were idiots," he declared. "But their loss is my great fortune." Her smile turned radiant, and she kissed him. The kiss transformed from relieved affection to smoldering need, and she shifted against him on the couch, straddling his hips. He groaned as she kissed along the most sensitive places on his neck and nibbled on his ear.

"We've lost a few hours, but it's still our anniversary," she whispered in his ear. "Hopefully that gives me enough time to make it up to you."

* * *

 **Thanks to Buck and Cap's Princess, karina001, LadyAmazon, DarylDixon'sLover and Qweb for your lovely reviews! I hope that everyone is still enjoying the story.**


	14. Possibilities

**Disclaimer: Marvel Characters are property of Marvel. Original Characters are mine. Just for fun, not for profit.**

* * *

 **Possibilities**

It was a week before Bucky brought the subject up again. They were settled in for breakfast, for once actually around the table. Darshan was curled up on his bed in the corner of the room, waiting for Nyssa to tell him he could leave it. Balaur was perched on the back of an empty chair, a habit Bucky encouraged by tossing him scraps of food from his plate when he thought Nyssa wasn't paying attention.

"I was thinking about our conversation from last week," he began, then took a sip of water to clear his throat and gather his thoughts. "Did you want to try looking into adoption?" Nyssa's expression became sorrowful.

"We certainly can discuss it," she acknowledged. "I tried applying a few years ago, before we started dating again, but my application was denied." Bucky frowned.

"Denied?" he repeated. "All the kids you've saved, and they won't let you have one of your own?" Nyssa shrugged.

"I was a blind, Enhanced, single woman with an unpredictable job schedule," she said lightly, though her expression and the heavy sadness he could feel from her belied her tone. "It's not what they prefer when placing a child."

"Well, you're married now," he pointed out. She nodded.

"But only for a year. They usually want a few years as a couple, to prove they are stable." She smirked slightly at him. "Don't want you to take off on me with a new kid in my care." His heart sank.

"So even that isn't an option for us?" He hadn't even realized how excited the idea had made him until the option was taken away. Nyssa took a slow sip of her coffee.

"We can always apply. You never know. But our chances would be better in a few years. If that's something you really want," she said carefully.

"It's something we both want, isn't it?" he countered.

"Well, yes, but make sure you know what you're asking for," Nyssa said pointedly. "Kids change everything, you know. No more leisurely Saturdays staying in bed until noon, no more random and spontaneous sex on every reasonably flat surface in the house, no more last-minute dates to four-star restaurants. In fact, from what I hear, it can be a challenge to even leave the house for the first few years." He raised his eyebrows at her.

"Are you trying to talk me out of the idea?" he asked. She smirked at him.

"Just trying to gauge your commitment to it," she clarified. "You've talked about the kind of mother you think I would be, but you haven't said anything about the kind of father you want to be. This isn't the 1940's, you know. I wouldn't be the only one changing diapers, walking the floor with crying babies and tending skinned knees." Bucky opened his mouth to reply, but then closed it again. In his head, he had imagined their happy little family unit, but as a proud but passive observer. His distant memories of his father were not unpleasant – his father had been neither harsh nor cruel – but they also weren't particularly warm and fuzzy. His father had been a good provider but had left the bulk of the child rearing to his wife, as was typical for the time. Before he could come up with a good answer for Nyssa, a knock came at the front door. Nyssa's expression immediately shifted to a blend of delighted and curious. "I wonder what Shuri is doing here." She stood, pushing away from the table and nearly sprinting for the door. Bucky followed more slowly, guilt and panic clutching at his chest as he suddenly remembered the email he had sent after their fight last week. Nyssa had kept him distracted for the rest of the day, and Shuri had not replied, so it had slipped his mind. But he did not think her arrival here was a coincidence. He tried to catch Shuri's eye, but her attention was fully on his wife as the two women embraced and greeted each other in Wakandan. Taking Shuri by the hands, Nyssa led her inside.

"Come in, come in," she encouraged. "Can I get you some coffee? We have tea, if you'd prefer."

"Coffee sounds good," Shuri declared, looking around their little apartment. "Your place is nice. A bit austere, perhaps." Nyssa chuckled.

"I don't do much decorating, since I can't see it anyway," she confessed. "So I leave most of that to Bucky." Shuri snorted.

"Well, that explains a lot." She surveyed the apartment. Darshan was now sitting up at attention, eyes fixed on this new visitor. Balaur spread his wings, shaking them out with a hissing sound, then took off from his perch on the back of the chair, gliding through the kitchen before landing on Bucky's shoulder. Shuri looked at the lizard with wide eyes. "Is that...?"

"Balaur is my… well, the closest thing you'll probably ever find to a dragon," Bucky confirmed. Shuri looked impressed.

"All my research led me to believe dragons were only a myth," she said in surprise.

"A ranking Hydra official paid a lot of money to turn a myth into a reality," Bucky said dryly. "And then he adopted me." Balaur trilled, and Bucky absently scratched the soft underside of his throat. Shuri grinned at him.

"Well, you are very adoptable," she observed.

"So, Shuri," Nyssa interjected. "We are certainly delighted that you're here, but was there a particular reason you decided to pay us a visit?"

"Yes, of course." Shuri smiled broadly. "I came to answer your message." Bucky groaned inwardly at this confirmation. Nyssa looked confused.

"My… message?" she responded blankly. Shuri looked sharply from Nyssa to Bucky and back again, her expression puzzled.

"Yes, the one Bucky sent me," she qualified. Her grin returned. "I'm here to get you pregnant." The delight faded from Nyssa's face, and she turned to fix a pointed look in Bucky's direction.

"Oh, really?" Her voice held a false note of sweetness. _When exactly did you decide to drag her into this?_ The words in his head had a much more indignant tone. Bucky sighed aloud.

 _After our fight, when you left,_ he admitted silently. One of the advantages of being with someone of Nyssa's talents was the ability to have secret conversations in the middle of a crowd. Sometimes it was not such an advantage. He tried to keep from squirming and suppressed his usual nervous tells. _I thought she might have a way to make it work. After you came back, and we talked… I forgot I sent it to her. I'm sorry._ Shuri's perceptive gaze moved from one to the other and back again.

"Is… this a bad time?" she asked cautiously. Nyssa's head swiveled back towards her.

"Not at all! I'm extremely interested in what you have to say. Why don't we go into the living room where it's more comfortable to discuss it?" Her manner had turned bright and cheerful, which Bucky found suspect, but she had her mental barriers up again and he couldn't get a read on her. Either this conversation would redeem him, or there would be an even bigger fight after Shuri left. He hoped for the former but braced himself for the latter. Nyssa poured a mug of coffee for their guest, then led them to the living room. Nyssa and Bucky settled into the couch while Shuri sat down in the overstuffed chair opposite them. Bucky settled back, his arm extended across the back of couch in silent invitation. Nyssa sat perched on the edge, holding herself stiffly, close to him but not touching. He caught a quick ripple of anxiety where he had expected anger and glanced at her in surprise. Darshan appeared, a watchful shadow, and settled himself across Nyssa's feet. Her hands went automatically to his head, her fingers working in the fur behind his ears. Shuri opened her valise and took out something flat. At first, it looked like a standard tablet, but when she switched it on, it glowed and hovered in midair.

"The first obvious answer was a transplant," Shuri began. "Of course, we would have to start with a donor, and it would be a lengthy process to transplant, recover, attempt to conceive. But that wasn't the real issue. I still had your medical records – both of your medical records – so I ran simulations on all possible outcomes." She gestured, and an image of Nyssa appeared floating over the hovering tablet. "Due to your previous trauma, Nyssa, the amount of scar tissue in the abdominal cavity would make a traditional pregnancy complicated at best, even if you had retained your original uterus." She gestured, and the image bulged in the middle, the abdomen becoming lopsided and malformed as it grew. "Add in the extra stress that is already on your organs due to the ones that are missing, and it actually becomes dangerous. Age is also a factor." The view moved in closer, zooming in on internal organs. Different organ systems affected lit up red as she talked about them. "For a normal pregnancy, about a 75% chance of pyelonephritis, 80% chance of preeclampsia, 65% risk of pneumonia, high incidence of complications, high risk of birth defects, slight chance of actually carrying to term." She swiveled her head towards Bucky. "Then we have to factor in you."

"Me?" Bucky repeated, confused. Shuri nodded.

"The serum affects the DNA in all of your cells, including your gametes," she explained. "There have been no established studies of how it might affect fetal development, but my simulations suggest that it may increase the rate of development, which would also increase the resources and nutrients it would require to support the higher rate of growth, thus increasing the stress on her body."

"All of which means….?" Bucky prompted tersely. He suspected that he wouldn't like where this was going. His biology classes were both outdated and far in his past, but what he could understand from Shuri didn't sound promising. She waved her hand over the display, and the images faded.

"The chances of this method producing a healthy baby are approximately 72.394%," Shuri informed them solemnly. "However, the risk of maternal mortality is 87.734%, and the risk of serious and potentially lasting complications is… much higher." Bucky felt the blood drain from his face. Those numbers were much too high for his comfort. He hadn't even considered the risk Nyssa would be taking. He glanced over at his wife, but her expression was inscrutable. She didn't appear to be surprised or dismayed. He cleared his throat.

"Shuri, thank you for coming all this way," he began. He should have just left well enough alone. "I don't think we're prepared to…" Shuri cut him off with a scornful noise.

"Do you really think I would come all this way to tell you your wish is impossible?" she asked incredulously. "Who do you think you are talking to here?" She shook her head. "I remembered a project I started when I was fourteen. My father was trying to breed his prize rhinoceros, but nothing had been successful. We discovered that some of her reproductive organs were absent. My father was sad, but I decided it was merely a challenge. I devised an external uterine emulator." She tapped on her floating tablet again, and the image of the invention she referenced sprang to life above it. "The hardest part was honestly getting the… raw materials. I had to have help from the handlers for that. Once the egg was fertilized, and I got it properly ensconced in the emulator, all it required was adding the proper mix of nutrition and the appropriate and timely addition of the correct hormones in the amniotic bath…" Shuri gestured grandly. "487 days later, little Lindelwa was born!" A baby rhinoceros tossed her head atop Shuri's display. She smiled proudly at the image. Bucky glanced over at Nyssa, whose expression had become somewhat bemused. Shuri looked back over at them. "Of course, neither of you are a rhinoceros. But with some modifications, I believe I can create something similar for you." Nyssa cleared her throat and spoke for the first time since Shuri had begun her presentation.

"What are the chances of success using this method, according to your calculations?" she asked. Shuri grinned at her.

"Well, so far I have had a 100% success rate," Shuri declared. Nyssa looked at her levelly, her expression unimpressed. Shuri's countenance became more serious. "We can increase the chances of success by using my minimally invasive genetic screenings and implanting multiple zygotes. I estimate a 99.25% chance of a healthy, full-term baby with minimal risk to either of you." Bucky took a deep breath. His head was spinning, but that sounded like a much more promising idea.

"Wow, Shuri, that sounds like a much better plan," he commented. "We…"

"Will have to discuss it," Nyssa interrupted. "You have definitely given us food for thought. Can we have a couple days before we give you a final decision?" Shuri nodded.

"Certainly. I do understand that it's a big decision to make. But I am in Stark Tower, after all." Her eyes took on a wicked gleam. "I will have to visit this laboratory that Tony Stark is so proud of." Nyssa chuckled.

"I'm sure he will love that," she commented dryly. "Can I get you any more coffee?"

"No, this is fine," Shuri replied, taking a sip.

"Thank you for coming all this way to help us with this," Bucky said. "I wasn't expecting this much… enthusiasm… when I asked my question." Shuri settled back in the chair with an indulgent smile.

"I do love babies," she admitted, and took another sip of her coffee. "As long as I can give them back to their parents when they start to get fussy."

* * *

After she had left, Nyssa suddenly vanished down the hallway into her office, emerging with an armful of textbooks, which she set down on the couch next to Bucky.

"What is this?" Bucky asked, frowning.

"Child development, healthy attachment, basic developmental psychology," she explained. She knelt on the couch next to him. "I am… 90% sure that I want to do this. I believe in Shuri's genius. But first, I need you to be 100% sure that you want this, that you want it with me, and we agree on the how. If you're all in, I'm all in."

"You doubt me?" he asked, wounded. She cupped his face in her hands.

""I know you are sure you want this hypothetical situation. I know you are loyal and devoted. I know your heart is in the right place. It's just that I have seen it happen many times. A couple has a baby, he's gung-ho to start with but then realizes how it's changing his life, decides maybe it wasn't such a good idea. I don't think you would walk out on me, but I also don't want you to feel trapped by something you maybe don't want after all." He raised his eyebrows at her.

"First you were upset because you thought I might be unhappy never having children. Now you're upset because you are worried I'll decide I don't want them?" he asked pointedly. Nyssa sighed.

"Well, when you put it that way, I do sound like a neurotic mess," she said ruefully, and shook her head. "Anxiety does some strange things to the brain, and this is a loaded topic for me. But it does follow a certain kind of wobbly logic. Before, I was convinced it wasn't possible. Now I believe it is. Not just possible sometime in the distant future, but probably soon. That changes things." She smiled wistfully. "At least the common thread is that I love you and want you to be happy."

"I think you are entirely too concerned about making me happy," Bucky said. "Let me worry about my own happiness." He brushed her hair back behind her ear. "You know I'm not going anywhere. I'm not some young kid scared of responsibility. I'm a hundred and five years old. If I'm not ready to settle down and have a family by now…" Nyssa chuckled.

"Fair enough," she allowed. "I still want you to let it percolate. Look through the books, think about the kind of father you want to be. There's been a lot of progress in what we know about child development and what approaches are the most beneficial. Feel free to ask questions or bounce ideas. I'm open to discussing it as much as you want. I just want to be sure we're on the same page and our parenting philosophies are compatible. If you still want to do this by Friday, we will give Shuri the green light, and I will finally let myself get excited." She leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss to his lips. "I'm going to be in sessions all day, so text if you need anything, don't call. I'll reply when I can. I love you. So much."

"Love you, too," Bucky replied. She put on her shoes and jacket, strapped Darshan's working harness on him and went out the door. Bucky cleared the remaining breakfast mess and sat down with one of the books Nyssa had brought for him to read. It was rather dry, and he was thankful there was a glossary of terms in the back. He had only gotten a few pages into it when the communications console lit up, a bright blue light racing around the edges of the screen.

"Avengers Assemble," Steve's prerecorded voice blared from the console. "Avengers Assemble." Bucky snapped the book closed and set it on the end table, then went to see what world-ending trouble the Avengers were being summoned to combat.

* * *

 **Thanks to Qweb, DarylDixon'sLover, karina001, Buck and Cap's Princess and Guest for your reviews! I hope this chapter answered some of your questions.**


	15. The Thing in the Atacama

**Disclaimer: Marvel Characters are property of Marvel. Original Characters are mine. Just for fun, not for profit.**

* * *

 **The Thing in the Atacama**

"No, I'm not saying it's _inappropriate_ to use my voice, I'm just saying it's an old recording," Steve was arguing with Tony as Bucky walked into the hangar. "Was there a reason we can't use your voice? Or Friday's?" James Rhodes was standing off to the side, encased in his War Machine armor save for the retracted helmet, watching Steve and Tony argue with a slightly amused expression.

"Do you have a problem with the sound of your voice, Rogers?" Tony asked, a humorous glint in his eye. Steve sighed.

"Did you have that as the alert the entire time I was gone?" Steve asked in disbelief. Bucky smirked.

"We did, actually. Kind of a way of keeping you around even though you were halfway across the world," he replied. Both Tony and Steve looked over at him in surprise, as if they hadn't noticed him enter the room. Steve's expression softened.

"Well, I mean… I'm here now," he pointed out.

"If you want to record something different, we can discuss it, but save it for after the mission," Tony declared. "This mission is urgent." By now, Natasha, Clint, Bruce, Sam, Vision and Scott had all filed into the hangar. Tony clapped his hands together once for attention. "Okay, everyone. The Chilean government has requested our assistance. According to the report they sent, something crash landed in the Atacama Desert at 0400 three days ago. The Chilean Air Force sent a couple planes out to investigate, but as they were flying over, the wreckage emitted an energy pulse that completely knocked out their instruments and their engines. They crash landed about five miles away. Their next step was to send in the Army, but as soon as they got within half a mile, an energy shield completely covered the site. All attempts to penetrate the shield have failed, and they are not able to get any readings of what's on the other side. What is fairly obvious is that something in there is still alive."

"Hostile?" Steve asked. Tony shrugged.

"It – or they – haven't made any attempt to communicate, and there's been eight casualties so far," he said flatly.

"So, are we thinking it's an alien?" Scott asked excitedly.

"No, Scott, it's a Chupacabra," Sam replied sarcastically.

"It's definitely not Earth technology," Tony concluded, and Bucky heard a rare note of apprehension in his voice. It was gone just as quickly. "So, let's get out there and see if we can help ET phone home."

"What's the flight time?" Bucky asked. Tony shrugged.

"About ten hours, give or take. Where's Nyssa? We're already down Wanda," he noted.

"She's in session all day. Want me to ask if she'll cancel or catch up with us?" Bucky answered. Tony shook his head.

"Nah. If she doesn't want to come to the party, she'll just have to miss out." Tony's tenor was flippant as usual. Bucky raised an eyebrow but decided not to take the bait.

"Since it's a long flight, can I run upstairs and pack a couple things?" he asked. Tony scoffed.

"You have seven minutes, until we're done with the preflight," he decided. Bucky rolled his eyes, but wasted no time racing back upstairs.

* * *

Ten minutes later, they were in the air. Bucky settled into his flight seat next to Steve, slightly out of breath from his sprint. The Quinjet hummed softly around them as it took off, soaring out of the launch door usually concealed at the base of Avengers Tower. Bucky watched the ground fall away until they broke through the cloud cover and reached cruising altitude.

"Man, an actual alien," Scott marveled to himself. "I wonder if it will be bald with huge eyes and, like, skinny arms and legs…" He trailed off as he took in the amused glances of the other team members.

"You realize you already know an alien, right?" Sam said bluntly. Scott gave him a blank look. "Thor is an alien." Scott shrugged.

"Technically true," he agreed. "But he's… Thor."

"Maybe Thor would know more about the kind of alien it is," Natasha suggested, and looked over at Bruce. "Do you think you could get ahold of him?"

"I'm fresh out of ravens," Bruce muttered. Natasha raised an eyebrow at him. He sighed. "I'll see if I can get a message through. Maybe he can meet us there." The thought triggered a similar one in Bucky's mind, and he sent Nyssa a text letting her know where he was and not to expect him home for awhile. He was surprised when he got a response almost immediately, a query where they were headed. She must be in between sessions. He shifted his attention to his phone, tuning out the conversation around him.

As the hours wore on, conversation died away. Bruce disappeared into the back, mumbling something about taking a nap. Bucky got one of the books out of the bag he had grabbed from their apartment, deciding to use the travel time for something useful.

"What are you reading?" Scott asked. Bucky glanced at him briefly, then turned his attention back to the page.

"Just something Nyssa wanted me to read," he replied quietly. He was pretty sure he didn't want to announce the events of the morning to everyone on the team. Especially when it wasn't absolutely certain how things would work out just yet. Scott snickered.

"Boy, she's got you whipped, doesn't she?" Scott teased. Bucky didn't bother looking up from the page again.

"I fail to see how what goes on in the privacy of my home is any business of yours, Scott," he replied levelly. Scott snorted with a grin, then his smile faded.

"Wait, are you saying you guys…" He shook his head. "You know what? Don't answer that. I don't think I want to know." Natasha chortled softly. Bucky glanced at her, then over at Steve, who looked completely lost. He sighed and tried to focus on his book.

* * *

Once they descended below the clouds, it wasn't hard to spot where they were headed. The monochrome expanse of desert was interrupted by a glowing half-sphere nearly a mile in diameter. It appeared innocuous, but they left plenty of room as they set their aircraft down half a mile away, hopefully safely out of immediate danger. As they disembarked, a man in army fatigues and Divisional General insignia approached, flanked by two junior officers. They stopped in front of the Avengers and saluted. Steve and Rhodes immediately snapped to attention and returned the official gesture. Bucky did as well, half a second behind the other two. The General began rattling off a rapid-fire report in Chilean Spanish, and Bucky frowned in concentration as he tried to follow the local dialect. His Spanish wasn't particularly rusty, but he was still feeling slightly lost. For a moment, he wished Nyssa were there, with her aptitude for picking up languages as easily as breathing.

"Everything they've tried so far hasn't been able to penetrate the energy shield," Tony's voice supplied helpfully though his earpiece. He must have updated the translation software in the suit. "Everything just ricochets off the field."

"So maybe I shouldn't use the rocket launcher?" Bucky suggested with a smirk.

"Well, that depends," Tony replied archly. "Did you bring any rocket-resistant armor?" Their conversation was interrupted by a thundercloud that suddenly appeared in the sky. The Chilean army began shouting and running, glancing up at the sky while they began making preparations for the sudden storm.

"The Atacama is the driest desert in the world," Bruce murmured behind Bucky. "The wettest parts get less than half an inch per year."

"So the thunderstorm would be unexpected," Natasha whispered back.

"To say the least," Bruce agreed. A clap of thunder shook the sky, and lightning suddenly arced down to strike the ground, sending dust and stone flying. As the dust settled, a tall, familiar figure strode towards them. Thor grinned broadly as he caught sight of the rest of the Avengers.

"Hello, friends!" he called. His long strides brought him to the rest of the group in short order. "What foe are we facing today?"

"We were kind of hoping you could tell us," Natasha replied, gesturing towards the glowing dome. "Something crash-landed there but we can't get the force field down to investigate." Thor's smile faded slightly as he gazed at it, and he shook his head slightly.

"It is no race I am familiar with," he admitted.

"Well, who's up first?" Steve asked, glancing around the group.

* * *

Iron Man flew out over the glowing half-sphere. The shifting energy kept the field mostly opaque, obscuring what lay on the desert floor beneath it. None of his scanners were able to penetrate through.

"If we can match the frequency of the barrier, I might be able to punch through it," he announced. "Friday?"

"No good, boss," she said ruefully. "It's shifting every five nanoseconds, and it seems to be completely random. Even if we could sync with the frequency, by the time it traveled from you to the field…"

"It would have shifted anyway," Tony concluded, then heaved a sigh. "Let's give it a shot anyway." He raised both hands and fired his repulsors at full intensity. The energy blasts skittered across the surface, then vanished. The quiet hum that had been present since they landed grew louder, and the field abruptly expanded. The moving barrier slammed into the flying armor. Tony blinked at screens suddenly gone dark, willing them to come to life again. "Friday, little help here?" His onboard computer remained silent. He tumbled down, disoriented as his eyes registered first sky, then ground, then sky again. His descent was abruptly slowed as someone grabbed his right arm.

"We got you, Tony," Falcon's voice said, and his left arm suddenly found similar purchase. He tried to slow down both his panicked breathing and his racing heart as he hung in midair. Solid ground materialized underneath his feet a few moments later. He thumped on his chest, still mystified at what could have caused his arc reactor power source -and everything else in the suit - to completely short circuit. There was a high-pitched whine, barely audible, and then the suit abruptly collapsed inward, reverting to standby and leaving him in the middle of the desert battlefield wearing a faded Black Sabbath t-shirt, designer jeans and $500 shoes. On either side of him, Falcon and War Machine were watching with concern.

"All right, what the hell," he muttered, turning to stare hard at the glowing bubble as if he could unlock its secrets with his naked eyes if he just looked hard enough.

"The energy in the force field seems to be shifting constantly," Vision commented as he drew closer. "It appears to have exuded a frequency that was incapacitating to the systems of your suit."

"Thanks, I already figured that much out," Tony replied sarcastically. He took several steps back from the shimmering half-sphere. "You got any ideas?"

"It is possible I could send a beam through the field and attempt to match the frequencies. It may work to disrupt it," Vision said speculatively.

"Or it may not," Tony grumbled, backing further away. He raised his arms in a gesture of frustration. "All right, everyone. Let's just throw all our best ideas at it. Maybe something will get through." Before he could take another step, an arrow flew at the sphere, disintegrating as it traveled through the gleaming barrier. "Give me a minute to get out of range first, would you, Barton?"

* * *

Steve hurled his shield at the barrier as hard as he could. It ricocheted off the side, deflecting at an odd angle and sailing in a different direction. Bucky sprinted to catch it, plucking it out of the air with his left hand, then nearly dropped it as it sizzled against this metal fingers. The vibranium had been superheated. It began to warp in his grip. He hurled it as far as he could into the barren sand and stone, hoping it would land someplace safe to cool. They could collect it when this was over.

Vision no longer carried the mind stone embedded in his forehead, but wore a headpiece that bore the stone, essentially serving the same function. He flew up in the air, and a beam of light projected from the stone. The ray lanced across the surface of the shimmering dome, sending ripples of disruption cascading over the surface. The color shifted and undulated, transmuting from gold to copper ombre, then shifting to a color Bucky had never seen before. Abruptly, a ray of energy shot back towards Vision. He dodged and managed to avoid the brunt of it, but it grazed his shoulder. He tumbled and spun, landing in a heap in the dirt. Sam swooped down and landed at Vision's side. After a moment, he helped Vision to his feet.

"Hey, instead of bigger, why don't we try going smaller?" Scott suggested. Before anyone could respond, he took off running towards it, then began shrinking before their eyes. He was too small to see by the time he reached the shield, and they all waited, holding their breath to see if it had worked. After a minute and a half, Scott reappeared, looking frazzled and slightly scorched. "Never mind. Nope. That doesn't work." He took a step forward, staggered, then dropped to his hands and knees. Bucky took a step towards him, but Scott held a hand up. "I'm okay, I'm okay, I just… need a minute."

"All valiant attempts," Thor noted. "But I doubt it can withstand the power of the Thunder God." He looked to the sky and raised Stormbreaker. The sky darkened with gathering clouds. A rumble of thunder shook the air, and several lightning bolts stabbed downwards. The lightning impacted on the dome, then split apart and crackled across the surface. There was a moment's pause, and then a wave of light and sound knocked Bucky over. The world abruptly went from blinding white to insensate black.

* * *

Bucky awakened an indeterminate amount of time later. The sky above was still light, though he wasn't certain whether that was because it was day or because of the glowing dome a short distance away. He sat up with a groan, rubbing his throbbing head. The force field seemed to have expanded even more, almost swallowing the flat ground and surrounding rocky peaks. The other Avengers were scattered around on the desert floor. Thor and Steve were already on their feet, regarding the alien bubble with dismay. Bucky rolled to his feet and began taking stock. Aside from his headache, he didn't seem to be injured. His arm was still functional. He flexed it and ran his hands down his sides. Nothing broken from what he could tell. He crossed to the nearest motionless form lying on the ground near him. Natasha was sprawled awkwardly, her arms thrown up to cover her face, defensive even in unconsciousness. He was relieved to find a pulse. He patted her face gently.

"Natasha, wake up," he said. "Rise and shine, Romanov." He easily blocked her punch as she jerked awake, then groaned and put a hand to her head. "I know, me too. Anything broken?" She shifted experimentally and shook her head.

"I think I'm okay," she said shakily. Bucky nodded and stood, extending a hand to her. She took it gratefully and pulled herself to her feet. Bucky moved on to the next still figure to his left, while Natasha made her way to Clint's side. Sam was some distance away, one of his wings broken and scattered a few meters off. He groaned and stirred as Bucky crouched next to him.

"C'mon, Wilson. This is no time for a nap," he chided. "Slacker." Sam grunted, mumbled something incomprehensible and sat up.

"Any casualties?" he asked, wincing as he dragged himself to a sitting position.

"Not so far, but not everyone's awake yet," Bucky replied, more cautious than optimistic. Sam nodded. Bucky helped him to his feet, then looked around to assess the scene. Natasha was helping Bruce to his feet, and Steve was kneeling and talking with a now-conscious Scott. Vision appeared to have awakened on his own. Bucky frowned. The head count still wasn't right. There was a rocky outcropping not far away that Bucky thought he remembered being taller. He walked around it on impulse and found Tony buried underneath several large rocks. His eyes were closed. Bucky wasted no time clearing the boulders away. Without his armor, Tony seemed smaller, his body battered and broken on the sand. It was hard to determine the extent of the damage at a glance, but Bucky was fairly certain Tony's leg was broken, at a minimum. The cut on his head didn't look The ground around them rumbled, and small pieces of debris pelted Bucky and scattered in the dirt. This place wasn't safe. Carefully, he lifted Tony up and stepped away just as more substantial rocks fell, striking the earth where Tony had been just moments before. Bucky carried him back to where the others were gathering. He lay Tony gently down on the dirt amid exclamations of alarm and concern. Sam sprinted back to the Quinjet to get his medical supplies.

"Has anyone seen Rhodes?" Steve asked worriedly. Vision flew upwards, scanning the desert floor.

"There," he called, pointing. "Two hundred meters that way. He appears to be frozen in place. Perhaps the energy wave knocked out his suit's power as well."

"Can you get him back here?" Steve asked. Vision nodded, glancing worriedly at Tony's unmoving body before flying in the direction he had pointed in. The rest of them gathered silently around as Sam began assessing Tony's injuries.

"Fractured tibia, four fractured ribs, concussion… luckily, I'm not seeing any internal bleeding," he summarized. He shook his head. "He's going to be sore for awhile, and we need to get that leg set, but he'll live."

"Is he going to wake up?" Natasha asked anxiously. Before Sam could answer her, Tony stirred and groggily opened his eyes.

"Anybody get the license number on that avalanche?" Tony mumbled. Sam chuckled.

"Glad to have you back, Tony," he said. "Now lay still. You're injured."

"That would explain the pain," Tony said dryly. His eyes closed again, his expression constricted. He grunted and gasped as Sam applied the splint to his injured leg. Snapping into place, it straightened the bones back into alignment. Sam activated it, and the low, faint hum told him it was working, emitting a resonant field that encouraged the tissues to knit together and heal faster than they would normally be able to. It was Tony's first time on the receiving end of this particular technology. It wasn't painful, but created a maddening, deep-seated itch that permeated bone and muscle. Opening his eyes, he stared up at the sky, looking for something to distract himself from the uncomfortable sensation.

"Anyone have any new ideas?" Steve asked, trying to draw attention back to the mission and spare Tony a little dignity. "What we've tried so far isn't exactly working." The others exchanged looks. All their attacks thus far had backfired.

"All I can say is, I would love to get a crack at that tech," Scott observed. The others murmured agreement, then lapsed into silence again.

"It's a bird, it's a plane…" Tony said suddenly. Steve and Bucky both turned to look at him. His eyes were still open, and he was staring up into the sky. "No, really. It's a plane." They all glanced upwards and saw the Falcon Flyer soaring overhead. Sam scowled.

"All right, who took my car?" he protested. Bucky couldn't suppress the smile that snuck onto his face.

"Nyssa."

* * *

The Falcon Flyer settled easily onto the desert floor. A minute later, the hatch opened, and Nyssa stepped out, Darshan at her side in heel position.

"What are you doing here?" Bucky asked. He didn't mind that she was there, but she hadn't said anything about joining them.

"And how are you operating my car when you don't even have a license?" Sam interjected.

"Video navigation, Sam," Nyssa informed him calmly before turning her attention back to Bucky. "I thought you guys could use my help." Bucky raised his eyebrows.

"I guess another perspective might be helpful," he reflected.

"I'll say," Nyssa replied. She shook her head. "The poor thing's terrified. I could feel it from over Bolivia."

"Terrified?" Steve repeated. "It's killed eight people, injured Tony…" Nyssa nodded.

"If you crash landed on a strange planet, and the first beings you encounter are armed to kill you, how would you react?" she queried pointedly.

"Are you joking?" Bucky asked incredulously. "That force field…."

"Is a defensive measure," Nyssa finished for him. "Has it attacked? Or has every strike been in response to something done to it?" Bucky didn't answer. He wasn't certain whether she meant it to be a rhetorical question or not, but he realized her point, nonetheless.

"Nyssa, we can't assume it's not hostile," Steve protested. "Especially with the damage it's already caused."

"Granted, but do we have to assume it _is_ hostile?" Nyssa countered. "I won't claim to be an expert on alien psychology, but has anyone even attempted to communicate?" The uncomfortable silence was enough of an answer for her. She sighed. She stroked Darshan's nose. "Stay," she commanded. He whined slightly as she walked away but did not move. Bucky found himself similarly paralyzed. He wanted to run after her, yell that she was being stupid and reckless, prevent her from getting any closer to the force field that had already hurt all of them. But he also knew what she could do, and that her unique perspective often gave her an unexpected advantage. Above all, he trusted her. So, he just watched apprehensively as she walked across the arid ground towards the shining dome. Mentally, he started going through the arsenal he still had on board the Quinjet but could think of nothing that hadn't already been proven useless.

"Where is she going?" Scott asked blankly.

"To talk to it," Steve responded, his tone disapproving and apprehensive.

"It's so crazy, it might just work," Bruce commented. They all fell silent as she drew closer. She stood at the edge of the force field for what seemed like an eternity, merely a silhouette against the bright alien backdrop. A dark seam rent the otherwise uniform surface, and it slowly opened, like a cracked open door with the security chain still set. It remained open for a handful of seconds, then slammed shut again. Nyssa's outline had disappeared. Bucky sprinted towards it, stopping just short of hurling himself through the energy field. He reached his vibranium hand out tentatively. As soon as the tips of his fingers brushed the field, it registered as heat and pain. He jerked his hand back, noting that the fingertips were now discolored. He turned around and was startled to see the others gathered only a few yards away.

"So, now what?" Natasha asked, looking from Bucky to Steve and back again. Bucky shook his head, wishing he had an answer.

* * *

 **Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed, and also those who just read. Feedback is always appreciated!**


	16. The Cost of War

**Disclaimer: Marvel Characters are property of Marvel. Original Characters are mine. Just for fun, not for profit.**

* * *

 **The Cost of War**

Vision descended slowly from the sky, the frozen War Machine dangling uselessly from his outstretched arms. He set the powered-down armor gently on the desert floor, then took a large step back.

"Can someone give me a hand here?" Rhodes' voice echoed hollowly within the armor's faceplate. "With the power out, this thing weighs a ton."

"It's only 0.1825 tons, thank you very much," Tony countered, still supine in the sand. "There should be an emergency release lever in your left armpit."

"Oh, great," Rhodes said unenthusiastically. "Inside or outside? Because I can't move these arms right now."

"Outside. Hold on, let me…" Tony attempted to push up, but Sam put a warning hand on his shoulder.

"You're not going to want to put any weight on that fracture before it's at least done with phase one," the pararescue veteran reminded him.

"I got it," Scott said confidently. He poked around under the left arm. After a few minutes of fumbling, they heard the hiss of a mechanical sigh. The suit retracted and opened, leaving Rhodes in an undershirt and camo BDU pants. He sagged forward, trying to catch hold of something to keep himself from tumbling to the ground. Steve stepped up, catching the paraplegic veteran before he hit the ground.

"Thanks, Captain," Rhodes said, sounding a little embarrassed. "Why don't you help me over by Tony so I can see what kind of trouble he's gotten into this time?"

"I can hear you, you know," Tony said acerbically. Rhodes grinned at him as Steve lowered him to the ground next to the genius playboy billionaire.

"I was counting on it," he quipped. "What happened, did you fall off a cliff or something?"

"No, the opposite of that," Tony grunted, shivering slightly. The sun had vanished, though the sky remained alight from the alien force field, and the temperature was dropping rapidly. "You know, when you said desert, I was imagining something a bit…. Warmer."

"It's a little further from the equator than Afghanistan," Rhodes agreed. He glanced around at the group. Everyone was gathered within a few meters, and they all seemed to be… bored, or waiting for something. "So, what's our next idea for blowing that bubble to Hell? Why is everyone just standing around?"

"Nyssa's inside," Sam said grimly. Rhodes' eyes widened, and he hoisted himself up on his elbows, looking around with a frown.

"What? How did she get inside? How long has she been in there? At what point are we going to go in and rescue her?" His questions came rapid fire. Next to him, Tony shook his head.

"Already asked most of those," he sighed.

"It's been…. About twenty-seven minutes," Bruce answered helpfully, raising his arm to look at his watch. "We haven't completely figured out the how yet."

"She doesn't need rescuing yet," Bucky said quietly. He was leaning back against a rocky outcropping, arms folded over his chest, focused on the glowing bubble. "She just needs more time."

"So what do we do until then?" Scott asked. "We can't just sit here and do nothing, can we?"

"Nothing might actually be slightly more productive than what we were trying before," Tony pointed out, putting his hands behind his head. "Anybody bring any Scotch?"

* * *

Thor started a fire, and they sat in a semi-circle around it, keeping an eye on the force field while they warmed their hands and noses. The Quinjet had not stocked any Scotch, much to Tony's dismay, but there was plenty of water and vacuum sealed rations to go around.

"These aren't half bad," Scott mumbled around a mouthful of food. Bucky had to agree. They were a good deal better than the MREs he recalled from his Army days, and even those were better than Hydra's fare. Scott swallowed his mouthful with a grin. "But if I had known we were going to be doing the campfire thing, I would have brought hot dogs and marshmallows. We could've roasted the weenies, make s'mores for dessert…"

"S'mores?" Thor repeated, his tone intrigued. "Is this an Earth delicacy?" Scott chuckled.

"Not exactly. More an integral part of growing up, going camping. You toast the marshmallow over the coals of your campfire, then add some chocolate and sandwich it between two graham crackers."

"That does sound tasty," Thor agreed, looking down at his bare meal tray.

"Oh, they're great!" Scott said enthusiastically. "Just quintessential childhood there… am I right?" He looked around at his colleagues, expecting to find agreement, but realized with dismay that their expressions were varying degrees of bemusement. "What, am I the only one here who had a normal childhood?"

"My family wasn't really the camping type," Sam replied, glancing over at Rhodes, who grimaced in agreement. Tony shrugged.

"I mean, we never went camping in a tent," Tony mentioned. "But the lake house didn't have a dishwasher or cable, so that's kind of like roughing it, right?" Scott looked around at the others in disbelief. Steve grinned sheepishly.

"I heard of them, but never had them," he admitted. "There wasn't much opportunity for, ah, camping in Brooklyn." Bucky chuckled, scratching behind Darshan's ears as the dog rested his head in his lap.

"Not for fun, anyway. Only fires we saw regularly were in the old oil drums in Tin City, but I don't think I'd want to roast food over those," he recalled. He shook his head and shrugged. "It was the Depression. Treats like marshmallows and chocolate bars weren't high priorities."

"I don't think camping was really a thing for my family in Stalingrad," Natasha said thoughtfully, staring into the fire as she combed through childhood memories. "But I know we didn't do any of that recreationally in the Red Room." She blinked and swiveled her head towards Bruce, seated to her left. "What about you, Bruce? Did you go camping and have s'mores growing up?" Bruce shifted uneasily in his tailor position on the ground. Scratching the back of his head, he cleared his throat.

"I wasn't really an outdoors kind of kid," he admitted. "Ah, I did try to make s'mores once, over a Bunsen burner in the lab when I was ten. It… didn't work as well as I'd hoped." Scott was looking more and more disappointed with each revelation.

"How about you, Hawkeye?" he asked desperately. "Didn't you ever go camping with your dad and roast hot dogs and marshmallows?" Clint sat up a little straighter, and Natasha winced visibly.

"No," Clint said shortly. "He died when I was young. Spent the next few years bouncing from foster home to foster home to the circus. Never found time to go camping." Scott's eyes widened.

"Jesus. I had no idea. I'm so sorry," he stammered apologetically. Clint shrugged and leaned forward, staring into the fire again.

"Don't be. I wasn't." A slightly uncomfortable silence settled over the group. Scott ran his hands through his hair.

"All right, that settles it," he declared. "After we get back from this mission, we're all going camping."

"I'm pretty sure I'm on Dad duty for a couple months after we get back," Tony replied with a sigh. "Pepper's calendar is full, what with it being the end of the year and all."

"You can bring Aaron," Scott said enthusiastically. "I bet he'd love it. Kids love camping! I'll bring Cassie – assuming her mother lets me – and Clint, you can bring your flock, too."

"Shall Wanda and I bring Petra, as well?" Vision asked. "I am not sure she is of an age to enjoy it just yet. Her interests thus far seem to consist of eating, sleeping, crying and soiling her diaper." Scott grinned.

"I remember that stage. It's really up to you, if you want to…" Scott halted abruptly as the sky suddenly went dark. Bucky was on his feet in an instant, the others standing with exclamations of surprise. In the distance, two figures crouched, nearly invisible in the darkness. Darshan sprinted towards the moving shadows but stopped halfway. He snorted loudly, shook his head and whined. Bucky passed him as he ran towards the crash site, and the dog resumed his pace following at his heels.

Nyssa stood as the rest of the Avengers approached, taking a subtle step in between her coworkers and the slumped alien figure. Bucky was the first to reach them, but not by much. Steve was right behind him, and Sam and Vision touched down for a landing half a breath later.

"About time," he breathed as he drew close to her. He'd meant to make the comment playful and faintly scolding, but it had come out as a sigh of relief. She gave him a wry smile, her face drawn in fatigue. Behind her, a strange figure huddled in the dirt.

"I don't know, I thought I was doing pretty well, getting through the impenetrable shield and learning to communicate with an alien species in the space of a night," she replied. He raised his eyebrows at her.

"You can talk to it?" he said incredulously.

"How do you think I got them to drop the shield?" she replied. "We need to work fast, though. They only have a few hours left before their breathing mixture runs out. And they agreed to let us salvage their vessel on the condition that it does not end up in military hands."

"We're a little short-handed, thanks to their attacks," Sam pointed out. Nyssa nodded.

"And they very sorry for that," she said with a sympathetic grimace. "The shield is a defensive measure that deploys and acts automatically to protect whoever is inside if the ship is disabled but someone survives. They were barely conscious after the crash. Now that the shield is deactivated, the suits should work again."

"You keep saying 'they'," Scott noted. "How many are there?"

"Just one," Nyssa answered. "Their species has four different genders, none of which are equivalent to our male and female." She made a face reflexively. "Spoken language is so limiting." She shook her head. "Their story is a sad one, but it can wait for the flight home. There's no time to waste. Sam, can you help get them on board? They're injured, and our gravity is almost twice what they are used to." Sam's eyes widened.

"Uh, sure." He stepped forward. Nyssa stepped aside and made a series of strange noises directed at the mysterious form on the ground. Slowly, the bizarre figure uncoiled. They were bipedal, but otherwise bore little resemblance to a human. Long, too-thin limbs uncoiled, jointed in too many places, tinged unnaturally cerulean, with legs that hinged in the wrong direction. Their head was mostly hidden by a helmet that completely covered their face. Sam hesitated.

"Does, ah, do they have a name?" he asked. Nyssa hesitated.

"Their language contains sounds we can't pronounce," she explained. "It's a poor approximation, but you can call them S'lal." Sam nodded and knelt down beside the alien.

"Okay, S'lal," he said quietly, careful to keep his tone calm and even. "Let's get you someplace safer than out in the middle of the desert." He was fully aware that they could not understand him, but kept up a soothing narrative anyway. Part of it was to settle his own nerves at interacting with this unknown creature, and part was in hopes that the tone might be somehow comforting, even if the words were incomprehensible. Behind the mask that covered their face, he thought he saw wide-set, multifaceted eyes. A thin hand with three long fingers reached up hesitantly to touch his face. He froze, looking down at the alien. Their hand dropped weakly back to their chest. Sam let out a breath and smiled reassuringly. "Relax, I've got you."

"With the rest of us working together, we should be able to salvage the rest of the ship and load it onto the Quinjet," Nyssa continued. Her sentences were a little faster than normal, the words spoken slightly less precisely than was her usual pattern. "We just have to be careful with the equipment that's still functional, so we don't accidentally set off one of the defensive systems again. Or activate a weapon. Or…" Bucky grasped her shoulders, and she stopped abruptly.

"I think we can handle it," he reassured her. "Especially if Tony and Rhodes get their suits working again. But more importantly, when was the last time you slept? Or ate?" They had been flown in together, and all of them had taken a turn resting on the long flight. But Nyssa had flown by herself, and left just a few hours behind them. And when she was in that mode, so externally focused….

"I got food before I flew out here," she defended herself.

"So… yesterday?" Bucky guessed. Nyssa sighed.

"Yes," she admitted. "But I'm so tired, I'm not even hungry." Bucky shook his head at her.

"Go sleep," he instructed. "Everything is under control here."

"Okay. Wake me in about four hours so I can finish filling everyone in," she instructed, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him.

"I will," he promised. " _If_ you don't still look like death by then." She made a face at him, then turned and headed towards the Quinjet, Darshan at her side.

* * *

Salvaging the wrecked alien spacecraft was neither tedious nor boring. Bucky was fascinated by the strange alien technology, and he was not alone in his enthusiasm.

"What do you suppose this does?" Scott asked, picking up a cylindrical scrap with a chamber the size of a human skull on one end.

"Probably a disintegrator ray," Tony said casually, hovering overhead with a large chunk of spaceship. "Careful you don't shoot yourself in the foot." Scott dropped it hastily.

"Really?" he squeaked. Tony scoffed.

"I don't know, Bug Boy, but we don't have time for field testing right now," he said brusquely. Scott picked up the scrap sheepishly and carried it towards the Quinjet. "I can't wait to get some of this back to the lab for analysis," Tony continued. He glanced down at Bruce, who was standing amid the wreckage, strange parts strewn about his feet. "You were off planet for awhile, Banner. Any of this look familiar?" Bruce glanced upwards at Tony and shook his head.

"The other guy wasn't so interested in the tech, but… no, this doesn't match anything I remember."

"These designs are strange to me as well," Thor volunteered helpfully as he lugged a double armful of twisted metal towards their ship. Bucky shouldered a smaller but still impressive load and trudged into the Quinjet. Curious, he climbed out of the cargo hold and made his way back to the sleeping quarters. He peeked through the doorway to see Nyssa curled up in their bunk. Darshan sprawled at her feet, his head resting on Nyssa's hip, his eyes closed. With a smile, Bucky headed back out to continue helping with the salvage effort.

* * *

As the sun rose over the horizon, the Quinjet soared into the sky. The only trace they left behind was a long skid mark through the desert sand. The wind would blow that away soon enough. By the time they reached cruising altitude a small crowd had gathered in the on-board medical suite, not wanting to hover directly over their alien guest but still curious. Sam remained at the side of the ailing extra-terrestrial, checking readouts and monitoring numbers. Bucky ventured closer.

"How is… everything?" he asked. Sam shrugged.

"I have no idea of baseline, so I have no idea what any of the numbers actually mean. But they're not changing much, so that's usually encouraging," Sam concluded hopefully. Bucky nodded. He heard a quiet step behind him and turned to see Nyssa standing in the doorway. S'lal stirred on the table, strange sounds arising from behind their mask. Nyssa nodded and moved closer.

"They want you to know what happened to them," she said softly. She moved closer to their bed. A thin, long-fingered hand inched closer to her, and she reached out and placed her hand in theirs. "Across the galaxy, a single planet orbits what we would call a K-class star. On this planet, a peaceful race called the Zoq'os lived. The next nearest system, about 8 light years away, was home to a much more aggressive race, the Vruuxel. They attempted to establish trade agreements, but the Vruuxel were greedy. They wanted the resources the planet Zoq had, but they weren't willing to negotiate with the Zoq'os. This precipitated a war that lasted for a hundred and fifty revolutions around their sun." Nyssa paused, for a moment her voice catching in her throat. "And now, the Vruuxel have succeeded. They constructed a doomsday weapon, capable of wiping out all life on the planet. When they deployed it, the explosion tore a hole through space, and sent S'lal tumbling through it and into our solar system, right after witnessing the complete destruction of their planet, and their species." She paused again, processing the being's grief. "Now they are the last." The others drew nearer, and for a moment it seemed the oxygen had left the room. Nyssa bowed her head, and a tear trickled down her cheek.

"Did they follow them here?" Tony asked after a moment. "Is Earth in danger?" Nyssa glanced down at S'lal for a moment, then shook her head.

"They don't think so. But just in case, they offer their technology to help bolster our defenses. Take it, study it, use it."

"Oh, I plan to," Tony declared. He looked down at the alien, and his expression softened for a moment. "I might even be able to get them a functional ship again." Nyssa stared down at S'lal, who replied with a subdued tone.

"They appreciate the offer," she translated, "but they have nowhere to go. And in any case…" Nyssa's voice grew thick. She paused, swallowed, then continued. "In any case, they are dying."

* * *

 **Many thanks to DarylDixon'sLover, Buck and Cap's Princess, and karina001 for your reviews! Always, always appreciated.**

 **I am contemplating putting this story on hiatus for the time being to concentrate on my other fic. This one doesn't seem to have as many following and enjoying it. I do still want to come back and finish this story, but it may be a while. Unless you are very excited to read the next part, dear reader? Let me know if you would miss following along on the continuing adventures of Nyssa and Bucky.**


	17. Ashes and Dust

**Disclaimer: Marvel Characters are property of Marvel. Deadpool also property of Disney/Fox. Original Characters are mine. Just for fun, not for profit.**

* * *

 **Ashes and Dust**

Considering their overall success, the Avengers were unusually subdued on the flight back to the United States. Nyssa spent the flight sitting beside S'lal's bed. Bucky tried more than once to get her to come lay down and rest, but she refused.

"The last survivor of an entire planet is dying," she pointed out. "Someone should bear witness to their history before they vanish from our universe. And I don't want S'lal to die alone." He was hard put to argue with that, so he left her with a kiss atop her head. Darshan curled up at her feet, content to be wherever she was. Bucky headed forward, where the others were discussing how to proceed.

"…I mean, we can't just casually mention in our report that we have a, what was it? An extra-terrestrial," Steve argued. "You know everyone is going to want a piece of them."

"Nyssa promised not to turn anything over to the military," Bucky reminded them. "I won't make her a liar." Tony shrugged.

"I don't think it has to be a big thing," he said casually. "We found the force field in the desert, and by the time we got it down, it had vaporized everything underneath." He shrugged. "There was nothing left."

"So let me just get this straight," Steve replied. "You want us to lie on our reports?" Bucky raised an eyebrow at Steve.

"Since when do you have an issue with falsifying records?" he challenged. Steve looked sheepish as the others gave him surprised looks.

"So we're in agreement, then?" Tony asked crisply.

"Might have an issue concealing the evidence," Natasha pointed out. Tony shrugged.

"I have enough other random crap in my workshop to build three more spaceships," he pointed out dryly. "I don't think anyone will notice a few new pieces."

"I was thinking about the living evidence," Natasha countered dryly. "S'lal can't exactly blend into the general populace like Thor can."

"I do not blend," Thor protested. "They still ask me for autographs when I walk in your city."

"That's not because you're obviously alien," Bruce countered dryly. "That's because you're a celebrity."

"And also ridiculously handsome," Natasha murmured. Bruce shot her a wounded look.

"Really?" he asked _sotto voce._ "Did you have to throw that out there?"

"It's a legitimate reason," Natasha pointed out. "He… turns heads. Are you suggesting that's not true?"

"Well, no," Bruce admitted grudgingly.

"I mean, he's not really my type," Natasha continued. "But still." Bruce sighed and shook his head at her. She smirked at him and snaked an arm around his waist.

"Anyway, back to the topic at hand," Steve said sardonically, giving the pair an admonishing look. "S'lal may or may not still be alive by the time we get back to headquarters. If not, we can dispose of the remains in whatever respectful way is appropriate, but if they are…"

"Well, it's not like we're dropping them off at the nearest emergency room," Tony pointed out. Scott snorted.

"Can you imagine the reaction if we did?" he noted with a chuckle. Tony rolled his eyes at him.

"We'll just keep them in the medical suite until… we can't anymore," the billionaire declared. He frowned speculatively and turned towards Sam. "Do you think the cryopreservation process would work on them?" Sam blinked at him.

"Why are you asking me? Do I look like an expert on alien physiology?" he protested, then shrugged. "Might be worth a shot, though. If they're dying already, it either saves them or speeds up the process."

"Maybe we could ask them what they want us to do," Bucky suggested pointedly. They had been discussing what to do with their unexpected passenger in much the same way he had once listened to Hydra discuss what to do with him, and he couldn't remain silent anymore. "…Since it is their life we're discussing." The others looked sheepish.

"Fair point," Tony granted. "Thank you for volunteering to have that conversation." Bucky took a breath to protest, then paused, shrugged and sighed. Turning, he went back the way he came.

His pace slowed slightly as he drew nearer. Once Nyssa was in his sight line, he started picking up on her tightly-restrained grief. The sorrow had changed in intensity since he had left her. He watched as she slowly removed the mask and helmet that had shielded the alien's face. Underneath the equipment, S'lal's face was flat and still. The long, angular countenance was dominated by a pair of large, wide-set compound eyes. There was no discernable nose, and he couldn't make out where the mouth opening was, although he was pretty sure it had one, since it spoke earlier. The strangeness triggered an automatic, visceral disgust in him, but he swallowed it back down. Nyssa turned her tear-streaked face towards him.

"They're gone," she whispered, shaking her head slightly. Remarks about how that simplified things flickered through his head, but he remained silent, instead gripping her shoulder comfortingly. She tipped her head to the side to rest against his arm.

"So now what do we do?" he asked softly. Nyssa took a deep breath.

"Traditionally, they return their bodies to the soil of their planet, but their biochemical composition is very different from our planet's, so I'm not sure that would be as helpful as intended," she mused.

"Maybe cremation, then?" Bucky suggested. Nyssa's eyes filled with tears again.

"Perhaps," she said, voice subdued, then fell quiet, head bowed. Bucky sat down beside her. She closed her eyes and leaned into him. He put his arm around her, one hand stroking her hair. They sat in silence as she struggled with her grief. "Just yesterday, I had no idea they existed. Now I am the only one who even knows who they were, knows their history. Not just that of S'lal, but of their entire race." He could tell that knowledge weighed heavy on her.

"You can tell me," he offered. "When you're ready to tell." She squeezed his hand in gratitude.

"Maybe that's a good place to start," she whispered. Her fingers traced the shape of his knuckles. She half-buried her face in his arm. "They had it figured out. The perfect society, built on cooperation, not competition. They had little disease, relatively little poverty, and no war. Until the Vruuxel arrived." She sat up a little straighter. "Launch them into space, armed with an explosive. Let their atoms be scattered among the stars. It's the closest to home we can get them."

* * *

They had a small ceremony in the Quinjet. S'lal's remains were packed into a metal cylinder, rigged with explosives and timed detonators. Nyssa spoke over them, her words weaving phantasmagorias of Zoq'os society, enhanced by the images she projected into the living attendees. They watched as the capsule cum coffin soared up into the sky, a bright light against the black night sky. It exploded in a bright flash of blue, silver and white, turning the heavens bright as day for an instant. Then it faded, and Bucky felt the faint pull of fatigue starting to weigh on him. Nyssa sagged against him, her exhaustion evident. He swung her up into his arms.

"Let's go to bed, Doll," he suggested. She sighed contentedly and clung to him.

"That sounds nice."

She was asleep before he laid her down in their bunk.

* * *

In Avengers Tower's generously-sized gym, music blared from the sound system as four figures moved around the basketball court. Clad in a sleeveless shirt and athletic pants, Bucky dodged around Sam and passed the ball to Steve, who went for the easy Iay-up from the three-point line. Sam groaned, and they faced off again in the middle.

"122 to 87," Bucky called out, and smirked at Sam. "Sure you haven't had enough?"

"Won't be going so easy on you for the second half," Sam promised. Bucky scoffed, and Sam swiped the ball, pivoting to pass it to Clint, who dribbled twice, then fired an impossible shot from the other side of the court. The basketball swished through the net. Sam grinned.

"122 to 90," he declared. Bucky smirked at him.

"Do you really think you stand a fucking chance?" he taunted.

"My Gramma can shoot hoops better than you.," Sam returned.

"Maybe you can invite her next time," Bucky volleyed back. "Might be nice to have a challenge for once."

"C'mon, guys. Can we have a little less talk and a little more… game?" Steve requested stiffly.

"Relax, Steve. Talking smack is part of the game," Clint said reassuringly, crouching down and getting ready to dodge around the supersoldier to open himself up for a pass.

"Steve only talks smack when he's spoiling for a fight," Bucky said with a chuckle.

"Not supposed to "talk smack" about your own teammate," Steve replied. Sam took advantage of their momentary distraction to steal the ball again, feinting a pass to Clint, then ducking around Bucky and dribbling down the court. He charged at the hoop, spinning as first Bucky, then Steve attempted to swipe the ball from him. He reached the hoop triumphant and launched himself at it, dunking the ball and hanging from the rim for a moment before dropping down with a whoop.

"122 to 92, baby," he crowed, high-fiving Clint. The four of them skirmished up and down the court. It was a tribute to the skill of Sam and Clint that all four of them were dripping with sweat by the time they called the game at 250 to 187. They retired to the sidelines to catch their breath and get a drink. Bucky sat on the bench at the side of the court and drained a bottle of water in a matter of seconds. Steve drank one, then opened another and let the cool, refreshing liquid run over his face and neck, joining the rivulets of sweat already staining his shirt from light to dark.

"Sam, you sure you don't want us to go easier on you?" Steve asked. "Next time, Buck and I should be on separate teams. In the interests of fairness." Sam made a dismissive gesture.

"Nah," he said dismissively. "I get the best workout this way. I figure, at this rate, if this whole Avengers gig doesn't work out, I could maybe try out for the NBA."

"Speak for yourself," Clint retorted, sitting heavily down on the bench. "My aim is still there, but I am definitely not as young as I used to be."

"Excuses, excuses," Bucky said with a chuckle, taking another swig of water. "Steve and I have fifty years on you, at least."

"Fifty years and some super soldier serum," Clint returned. "Maybe I oughta try getting my hands on some of that."

"Pretty sure whatever they made of that stuff was used up a long time ago," Bucky said dryly, staring down at his water bottle as if it contained something other than water.

"Yeah, Hydra made sure of that," Steve said grimly. Bucky winced slightly, even though nobody had leveled any accusations at him.

"Probably for the best, anyway," Sam said with a glance at Bucky. "Too easy to abuse if it falls into the wrong hands."

"That… pretty much sums up our job description, though, doesn't it?" Clint mused. "Keeping the most dangerous, most powerful things out of the hands of those who would abuse it?"

"Speaking of which," Sam interjected, sitting down on the other end of Bucky's bench. "How's Nyssa doing with that whole 'Death of an Alien Civilization' issue?" Bucky shrugged.

"She scheduled an extra appointment with her therapist," he replied casually. "She's been keeping busy helping Tony catalog the alien tech in between her other appointments. She also mentioned something about maybe writing a book. So, staying busy, I guess."

"Did you guys make a decision about, ah, the other thing?" Steve queried. Sam and Clint both shot curious looks in Bucky's direction. Bucky gave Steve a warning glance.

"Not yet," he said with a shake of his head. "That whole civilizations-ending, fragility of life, races dying out forever kind of put a damper on that discussion. But we will. Deadline is tonight."

"Well, good luck," Steve said. "I hope she ends up agreeing with you."

"Either of you want to clue us in?" Sam asked, looking blankly from one man to the other.

"Nope," Bucky replied. Grabbing his towel from the bench, he slung it over one shoulder and headed towards the showers.

* * *

"Thanks for the ride, Aunt May." Peter drummed his fingers nervously on the door's armrest. "You really didn't have to, you know. I can get here on my own."

"I know, but I wanted to, Peter," she replied, glancing at him with a half-smile before turning her attention back to the road. "I feel like I hardly ever see you anymore. I mean, it's good that you have your friends and your hobbies and all that. And I'm so proud of you going to Empire State. But an aunt likes to check in every now and then, you know? Make sure things are still going okay."

"Yeah, okay, okay. Better than okay. College is great. Just… staying busy," Peter stammered, his eyes scanning the nearby buildings. "You remember college, right?"

"I do," agreed May. "That's why I ask. You haven't brought home any girls…"

"I mean, I haven't had time…" Peter began the semblance of an excuse, squirming in his seat.

"…Or any boys," Aunt May continued pointedly. Peter's head snapped around, eyes wide.

"Aunt May!" he protested, feeling his face grow hot. "That's not… I'm not… I'm just too busy for that right now."

"Okay," she said easily. "Even if you were, there's no shame in that. You don't need to keep secrets from me." She reached over and touched his shoulder. "I love you, no matter what."

"I know, I know," Peter rolled his eyes to cover up the swell of emotion that rose in his throat, a mixture of gratitude for her support and shame in knowing the magnitude of what he kept from her every day. He cleared his throat roughly. "Here, here it is." Aunt May stepped on the brake and frowned over the steering wheel at the faceless warehouses surrounding them.

"Are you sure?" she asked skeptically. Peter nodded.

"Yeah, it's… this is a temporary meeting site. Until they find something more permanent."

"What kind of group did you say this is again?" Aunt May asked, peering into the dark.

"It's a support group," Peter answered quickly. Had it been too quickly? Hard to judge sometimes. "For… people who have lost… people important to them." Aunt May's face brightened.

"So like a grief support group?" she asked. Peter shrugged.

"Yeah, I guess so," he agreed.

"Maybe I should come to a meeting with you," she suggested. Peter swallowed hard.

"I, I mean, if you need something like this…" he stammered. "Maybe we could look for another group with, ah, people who are, ah, closer to your age?" The sideways smile May shot him was knowing and a bit playful.

"Don't want to cramp your style being seen with an old woman?" she teased.

"No, it's not that," he sighed. "I just don't think the… dynamics of this particular group would be a good fit for you." She raised an eyebrow at him.

"But it is for you?" she queried. He nodded.

"Yeah, I like it. I like it a lot. I gotta go, though. They probably started already." May nodded understanding.

"All right. Stay safe. If you need anything, call me." He gave her a grateful smile.

"I know. I will." He grabbed his backpack from the floor by his feet and slung it over his shoulder before darting into the shadows. He made his way to the building. It had once been a homeless shelter, but had run out of funding, and stood empty and unused. Most of the valuable items had been looted from it, but the graffitied walls were at least still standing. Peter ducked into a bathroom bereft of any paper products to change quickly, careful not to let his bag touch the stained and sticky floor. He hesitated for a moment, then brought the bag with him.

In the main room, a circle of chairs had been set up. Most of them were already occupied, and a low murmur of conversation susurrused through the room. A slight, dark-haired woman sitting in one of the chairs raised her head and smiled as Peter entered the room. The dog curled at her feet swiveled his ears in Peter's direction, but otherwise did not move.

"Hey, everyone," Peter called out. "Sorry I'm late. Hope you weren't waiting for me, but if you did… thanks." The slender, petite woman smiled warmly at him and stood.

"I am calling this meeting of the Support Circle to order. In a brief review of our rules, what is shared here, stays here. Be respectful of each other. Introduce yourself by whatever name you feel comfortable using. Please save any discussions of strategy or advice for defeating supervillains for after the meeting. I see we have a couple new faces, so I will begin by introducing myself. I am Dr. Nyssa Taylor, also known as Patchwork Doll. To my left is…" She gestured in that direction. A man wearing a deep red fighting suit complete with devil horns nodded in acknowledgment.

"Daredevil," he declared, then looked to his left, at a dark-haired young woman with a permanent scowl and her arms folded over her chest.

"Jessica," she muttered. The big man sitting next to her raised an eyebrow.

"Luke Cage," he announced, his voice a deep rumble. The room's sole light reflected off the top of his bare head like a dash of cream in a latte. He turned his head to look at the blond man seated next to him.

"I am Danny Rand, trained by the monks at K'un-L'un and descendant of the original; I am the Immortal Iron Fist," he proclaimed. Jessica rolled her eyes.

"Jesus Christ, do we have to get the entire autobiography every time?" she muttered, under her breath but still loud enough for the group to hear. Danny bristled.

"My autobiography would be a lot longer and more complex than that," he shot back.

"Settle down, you two," Luke rumbled warningly, and they both subsided. To Danny's left, a hulking figure in a trench coat removed his fedora to reveal lumpy, craggy orange skin the texture of stone.

"I'm Ben," he grunted. "They call me the Thing, as in 'Aaah, what is that Thing?' But here, I prefer my name." The pair seated next to him exchanged glances. She was a fair-skinned woman with white-blonde hair. He was as dark as she was light.

"He's Cloak," she introduced the dark man beside her.

"She's Dagger," he replied. They shared another look and settled back in their chairs, then looked to their left. Peter realized it was his turn.

"And I'm Spiderman," he finished.

"All right," Dr. Taylor said. "Check-in time. How is everyone doing, and are you facing any particular challenges this week?"

* * *

After the group ended, the attendees quickly dispersed. Peter hesitated at the doorway and looked over his shoulder. Dr. Taylor was unhurriedly putting away the folding chairs, carrying them over to the corner where a well-hidden closet had kept them safe.

"Do you want a hand with those?" Peter asked. Dr. Taylor smiled at him.

"I never turn down an offer like that," she replied. Peter grabbed two chairs in each hand and carried them over to the closet.

"Hey, can I ask you a question?" he asked as he went back to get the remaining three chairs.

"Of course." Dr. Taylor leaned back against the wall, and her dog sat obediently beside her.

"How do you keep the people you care about safe without keeping major secrets from them?" The question had been bouncing around in his head since Aunt May had dropped him off. "Is it really possible?"

"You mean, secrets like the fact that you're a superpowered crimefighter in your free time?" There was a knowing glint in her eyes.

"Heh, yeah," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

"That's a tough one to navigate," she divulged. "There was a time that I kept all of my abilities a secret from everyone. I thought if they found out, they would think I was psychotic and lock me up, or worse. Not to mention, I was worried that any enemies I made might go after them to get to me. For a long time, I didn't even tell my closest friends."

"So what changed?" Peter asked. By now, the nature of her abilities was widely known, and she was one of the handful of heroes in New York whose identity was not secret. She tilted her head to the side thoughtfully.

"I suppose getting to know the other Avengers helped," she replied thoughtfully. "I knew they could believe in my skills, and I didn't worry as much about them getting hurt, since they were better equipped to handle it."

"And what about your friends who don't have any special powers?" Peter countered. "They could still get hurt." Dr. Taylor nodded.

"That's true," she conceded. "But once my identity was out there, I realized that keeping them in the dark wouldn't necessarily keep them safe, either. And the quality of my friendships improved when I wasn't keeping such a huge secret from them." She reached out and grasped his hand. "It's a decision each person has to make for themselves. What's right for me now wasn't right for me back then, because I wasn't ready. The right decision for me might not be what's right for you right now, either. But only you can determine that." Peter sighed.

"I guess it was silly of me to hope there was an easy answer, huh?" he said sheepishly. Dr. Taylor gave him an understanding look.

"I think it's perfectly human to wish for easy answers to hard questions, even if they don't really exist." She winked at him. "Say hi to Aunt May for me, if you like." Peter chuckled nervously.

"Right. Thanks," he said.

"No, thank you," she replied, and he frowned in confusion. "For your help with the chairs," she clarified.

"Just your friendly neighborhood Spiderman," he returned, tipping an invisible hat in her direction before grabbing his backpack and vanishing.

* * *

Nyssa smiled to herself as she gathered her things and called Darshan to heel. She grasped Darshan's harness and took three steps towards the door, then stopped.

"Everyone else is gone, Wade. You can come out now," she said with a smirk. There was a surprised exclamation, and one of the ceiling tiles exploded downwards as a red-and-black-clad figure burst through and landed on the floor a few feet away from her.

"How the fuck did you know I was up there?" he spluttered. "I didn't even sneeze. Did you somehow sense that I had to scratch my balls?"

"You don't have to hide during the groups, Wade," she assured him. "You fit the criteria. You don't even have to use your real name. Just say Deadpool." He held his hands up and shook his head.

"Deadpool doesn't do group therapy," he averred.

"And whyever not?" Nyssa challenged him. "He's only got several lifetimes worth of trauma. Therapy could do some good, either group or individual." He chuckled sarcastically.

"Yeah, no. I don't do that touchy-feely hippie bullshit," he scoffed. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"And yet, here you are," she said pointedly. He sighed heavily.

"Yeah, I'm still not sure this was the best idea," he admitted. Nyssa began walking, Darshan at his customary position beside her. Wade followed. "I just…" He lapsed into a rare silence as they walked for half a block. "Vanessa's pregnant," he blurted. Nyssa glanced over at him with a smile.

"That's wonderful, Wade! Congratulations!"

"Isn't it!?" he said bitterly. "Except now I can't sleep, because my brain won't shut off. I already watched her die once. If I could have joined her, I would have. I tried my hardest. I got her back, but that memory is still there. I don't want to go through that again. And there's going to be a tiny, sarcastic version of me thrown in the mix, too. So my brain has taken to treating me to high definition renditions of "All the Terrible Things that can Happen to Everyone You Love." Especially given what usually happens to wives and children of people like me."

"That is a dilemma," Nyssa agreed. "One of the biggest struggles we can have as humans is letting people in, because when we care about them, it gives them the power to hurt us. Whether by their own betrayal or because life takes them from us. But the flip side of that same choice is that the love and connection with other people is what enriches our lives and makes it worth living. So the real question is, do we want to live a safe life but stay in an emotional desert, or a rich and fulfilling life at the risk of the pain that could come from losing those we love?"

"Ugh, see, I knew you'd come with that hippie-dippy yoga bullshit," Deadpool groaned.

"It's actually Developmental Psychology 101, from Erickson's stages of psychosocial development, but sure, you can call it yoga bullshit if you want," Nyssa replied, then leaned in closer. "What they don't tell you in class, though, is that the safe option hurts, too."

"So what you're saying, Doc, is that at this point I'm screwed either way, and probably not in the fun way," he summed up.

"No, what I'm saying is that life inevitably hurts sometimes, but it's the connection to those we love that makes it bearable," Nyssa clarified. "But it also sounds to me like you're dealing with some anxiety."

"So can you fix me?" he asked impatiently.

"I don't prescribe medication," Nyssa replied. "So probably not.

"Oh, come on," he pressed. "You can't, like, zap my brain into being able to be happy and excited rather than freaking the fuck out?" Nyssa stopped and turned to face him.

"I could help, for a while," she affirmed. "But it will be temporary. A couple months, tops. For more permanent ways to manage it, you really should reconsider your stance on therapy."

"Let's just start with that temporary fix," he proposed. With a wry smile, Nyssa spread her hands.

"Very well. Take the mask off, then," she instructed.

"What? Why?" Deadpool balked.

"That kind of deep work requires skin to skin contact," she explained. He still hesitated. "You know I can't see your face, right? Plus, there's nobody else around to see you. I promise." Grudgingly, he took his face mask off, revealing the heavily scarred skin underneath. Nyssa stepped closer, raising her hand towards his face.

"Your husband isn't going to come after me for this, is he?" Deadpool asked abruptly, his voice barely above a whisper. Nyssa raised her eyebrows at him.

"That depends," she replied evenly. "Are you going to be thinking scandalously inappropriate things about me while I do this?"

"I'll try to stick to only borderline inappropriate thoughts," he returned.

"My advice would be to focus on Vanessa and your unborn child and how you want to feel about them," Nyssa recommended, reaching up and touching his face. "Now hold still. This shouldn't hurt, but it may be a little… overwhelming."

* * *

Nyssa returned to Avenger's Tower in the kind of mood that comes from having finally made a difficult decision and feeling confident in it. Her optimism dropped off as she neared their door. Her stride slowed slightly. She entered their apartment and went immediately to the corner where Bucky sat, lost in a dark fugue.

"My love, what's wrong?" she asked, pressing her lips against his. He didn't resist her kiss but didn't return it with his usual enthusiasm.

"Why are you with me?" he asked, his voice thick, an angry edge masking the depth of despair he floundered in. "Why do you love me? Why the fuck would you want to have a family with me?" Nyssa frowned, worry knitting her eyebrows together.

"Where is this coming from?" she asked quietly. His attention shifted to the table beside him, just for a moment. Her fingers explored the smooth tabletop and encountered only one object: a small, hard-bound book with a star engraved on the cover. Her heart sank. It had been a long time since he had been in such a dark place, but if he had been immersing himself in the most traumatic parts of his past, this result was not surprising. Kneeling in front of him, she clasped both of his hands in hers and leaned forward earnestly. "I love you, I am with you and want to have a family with you because you are not perfect, but the perfect complement to me. Because both of us know what it is to be broken, to do whatever it takes to survive, to rebuild yourself into something better than you were before. Because you are my equal partner, willing to help however I need you to, and patient with me when I can't be the domestic goddess you were taught to expect growing up. Because there is nobody else I would trust with my heart. Because, above all, you are a good man." She felt as well as heard his snort of derision and disbelief.

"Am I, though?" he asked, his attention again drawn to the book on the table beside him. Nyssa picked up the book and held it between them.

"This is what they did to you, who they tried to make you. This isn't who you are. They may have broken the man they took captive, and bent him to their will, but they couldn't have known that he would become even better, stronger, more confident, more compassionate because of what he endured. Because, yes, he is a good man." He looked up at her, and she could only guess what the look in his blue eyes was as rays of hope cut through the dark shadows of anguish inside him. Her fingers encountered wetness on his cheeks, and she gently wiped his tears away. He tilted his head into hers.

"I try to be," he said roughly.

"No, you succeed," she corrected gently. He shook his head, letting his breath out loudly.

"Are you sure about this baby thing?" he asked. "With someone like me?"

"No, not with someone _like_ you," she replied. "With you. Specifically, you. And yes, I'm sure. Are you?"

"If you think I can do it without screwing up some poor defenseless kid," he said, some humor returning to his tone.

"You don't sound sure," Nyssa noted.

"I'm sure I want to have a family with you," Bucky said firmly. "That much I do know. But I can't promise I won't make mistakes."

"Well, good," Nyssa declared. "Then they will learn that it's okay to make them."

"Okay." Bucky took a deep breath. The undertow of misery still threatened to pull him down again, but with Nyssa there to buoy him up, he was starting to regain equilibrium. "Then we should call Shuri and tell her she can start on her science project."

"Absolutely," Nyssa agreed. "There's just one thing we should do first." He raised his eyebrows at her.

"What's that?" he asked. She held up the red-covered book.

"Burn this," she declared. "It has no power over you now."

* * *

Balaur provided the spark that started the flames. Bucky watched the book begin to blacken and curl inwards. The tug of despair lessened, then disappeared. It didn't change anything that had happened in the past, but it seemed a powerful declaration of who he was now. As the book turned to embers, the shadowy fingers of Hydra faded away as well. Nyssa was right. They had no power over him anymore. He squeezed her hand and smiled down at her.

"Thank you," he said quietly. She nestled closer into his side.

"What else am I for, if not to remind you of the light inside you when you lose sight of it?" she asked, her voice content and slightly drowsy. He kissed the top of her head, then turned his full attention back to the fire, watching the last remnants of his connection to his days as the Fist of Hydra turn to ash.

* * *

 **There was a request to "finish" the alien storyline before going on hiatus. I liked that idea, and I've been looking forward to writing some of these scenes for awhile now. So here you are. I am now officially putting this story on pause so I can concentrate on Committed. Ties That Bind will resume after the other story is finished.**

 **Thanks to karina001, Buck and Cap's Princess, DarylDixon'sLover, Melanyrose and Qweb for the reviews! I hope you all enjoy this last (for now) installment.**


	18. Life's Little Mysteries

**Disclaimer: Marvel Characters are property of Marvel. Original Characters are mine. Just for fun, not for profit.**

* * *

 **Life's Little Mysteries**

Shuri frowned down at the display in front of her. Behind her, Nyssa slipped an anxious hand into Bucky's. Shuri turned slowly, her expression thoughtful. A pregnant pause filled the room with silent expectation. Behind the Wakandan princess, a squat, cylindrical apparatus crouched on the floor. Shuri nodded approvingly at the readouts.

"Out of ten, we have eight viable zygotes," she announced cheerfully. Her face lighting up in bright expectation, she focused on the nervous couple before her. "How many do you want to implant?"

"You've already scanned for any genetic anomalies?" Nyssa queried softly. Shuri scoffed at her.

"What kind of idiot do you take me for?" she said scornfully. "Of course, I have."

"Can you identify how many have my specific genetic variation, the one that imparts my abilities?" Nyssa continued calmly. Shuri clucked her tongue, but turned her attention back to her readings. She nodded slowly.

"Four of them carry active variants of that gene," she confirmed.

"And they all have the serum enhancements as well?" Bucky asked. Shuri nodded.

"That's a given. The serum is in all of your DNA now. It's unavoidable," she replied. Bucky absorbed that information with a carefully neutral expression. He raised his eyebrows at Nyssa.

"So, what do you think?" he asked. "Do we use all four?" She tilted her head to the side thoughtfully.

"Are you prepared to help me with four babies if they all survive?" she inquired, a spark of humor in the curve of her lips. He thought about changing four sets of diapers, chasing four babies around their tiny apartment….

"Maybe not," he admitted. "Do we want to just start with one?"

"But what if something happens to that one?" Nyssa countered. "We'd have to start over. And I'd like to do more than one. Growing up, I always wished I had a sibling to play with."

"Well, let's split the difference and do two," Bucky suggested. "Then we're not outnumbered, but they both have a sibling." Nyssa pondered that for a moment.

"Should we add a third, just in case?" she mused.

"If it helps," Shuri offered kindly, "They have all passed the genetic screenings. I would estimate the chances of each surviving gestation to be 98% or better." Bucky relaxed slightly.

"All right," Nyssa agreed, "Twins it is." Shuri grinned at both of them.

"Very well." She extended her handheld display to them. "Do you want to look at the genetic profiles and decide which two?" Bucky's hand tightened around Nyssa's in a silent query. She responded with a burst of agreement. Bucky shook his head at Shuri.

"Now that we've got it narrowed down to four, you can choose which two we use," Bucky informed her solemnly. "We trust your judgment, and some aspects should still be left to chance." Shuri's eyes sparkled at him in excitement.

"Left to chance, or to a stroke of genius?" she challenged him teasingly. He spread his fingers, palm up.

"Take your pick," he replied dryly. She dimpled at him, then whirled around and focused intensely on the small vessel on the floor next to the emulator, sitting cross-legged beside it. Beside him, Nyssa suddenly sighed.

"Here we go," she murmured quietly, and leaned into him. "Are you ready to take the leap off the cliff into fatherhood?"

"We'll still have a few months before we get to that point," he reminded her. Leaning over, he kissed her on the forehead. "It will be exciting to see them grow up. Do you think they'll have my eyes, your nose, your lips…?" He punctuated his speculation with little kisses on her features as he named them. She smiled at his affection, leaning into his caress.

"I'm certain they will have their own features," she declared firmly. "And I am far more excited to discover their personalities, their hearts." Which made sense for her, if he had even stopped to think about it for a moment.

"True," Bucky conceded. "Still, do you think they'll be tall, like me? Or little, like you?" Nyssa frowned slightly, contemplating his question.

"No, she's supposed to be bigger," Shuri interjected from her seat on the floor. Two sets of eyes swiveled to focus on her.

"What?" Bucky asked. Shuri didn't look at them, but remained focused on her task.

"She's meant to be bigger, going by her base DNA," she repeated. "170 centimeters, at least." Bucky looked at Nyssa to see if she knew what Shuri was talking about, but she appeared as perplexed as he was.

"So what happened?" Bucky asked. Shuri bent forward, frowning in concentration as she carefully moved a tiny light wand into a slot in the side of the unit. The machine beeped, then whirred, and lights flickered on along the bottom of it. Shuri sat back with a satisfied noise.

"Epigenetic changes, most likely due to trauma, stress and nutritional deficiencies, given your history and the fact that you're missing a significant portion of your small intestine," Shuri explained with a gesture, as if it should be obvious. She leaned forward again, refocusing on her work. Bucky raised his eyebrows at his wife, who was sitting with a fierce frown on her face as she contemplated this new information. He was familiar with her past, of course, but he hadn't realized how much of an impact her past traumas had on her physically. They both silently watched Shuri continue her work. Another beep came from container, and a second row of lights lit up. Shuri sat poised over her creation for a long minute, scrolling through her handheld display, then double checking the readouts on the uterine emulator. Bucky and Nyssa watched her silently, anxiously. She slowly straightened her back, stretched her arms over her head, then rose to her feet. Putting one hand on her hip, she sashayed proudly over to the anxious couple.

"Congratulations," she proclaimed. "You're pregnant." A rocket of excitement erupted inside Bucky, exploding somewhere in the vicinity of his heart. Elated, he picked Nyssa up, spun around with her, and kissed her thoroughly before setting her back down. Shuri watched with dancing eyes. Bucky returned his attention to her and extended a hand towards her.

"Thank you so much," he said solemnly. Shuri eyed his hand and raised an eyebrow.

"Are you going to do that with me, too?" she asked suspiciously. Bucky chuckled.

"Do you want me to?" he asked. "We owe you so much." Shuri shook her head.

"I'll pass, thanks," she replied with a smirk, but then stretched her arms towards him. "But I will accept a celebratory hug." With another chuckle, Bucky obliged. As soon as he released her, Nyssa enfolded her in a grateful embrace.

"Thank you, so much," she murmured in Shuri's ear. "You don't know how much it means to me." Shuri released her and held her at arm's length. Nyssa raised her eyebrows at the genius, and Shuri nodded.

"Of course," Shuri said out loud. "I will have the hormone injections with detailed instructions delivered by next week. And if you are dead set on doing it for any length of time, I will also formulate a nutritional supplement to ensure it isn't robbing you of what your body needs." Nyssa looked relieved.

"Thank you, again," she said fervently. "I don't know how I can ever repay you." Shuri waved a hand dismissively.

"You can owe me a favor," she decided. "Now, remember the daily maintenance I went over with you, and make sure to replenish the nutrient tank every month, or sooner if it starts to run low."

"Absolutely," Bucky agreed, holding up the thick booklet of instructions she had given them. "Don't worry about that. We can follow directions." Shuri nodded.

"Good. I will be back to check on them in a couple months, but if you have any questions before then, don't hesitate to call me." Shuri waved her wand at the instruments scattered on the floor. They vibrated slightly, then levitated, sweeping themselves into her tote bag. She slung it over her shoulder and grinned at them once again. " _Salani kakuhle,_ Bucky and Nyssa."

" _Hamba kakuhle_ , Shuri," Nyssa replied, crossing her arms over her chest in the Wakandan salute. Bucky echoed the gesture. Shuri mirrored them, then left their apartment, leaving them gazing at the medical device installed on the floor of their walk-in closet. Bucky wrapped his arms around Nyssa and pulled her in closer.

"We should celebrate, shouldn't we?" Nyssa observed. "It feels like we ought to celebrate."

"Well, as I recall," Bucky drawled, "typically this process does involve sex." Nyssa chuckled.

"True," she agreed, "although the timing is a bit off." Bucky shrugged.

"So what else is new for us?" he noted, moving his lips against her cheek, his fingers caressing the curve where her back met her shapely behind. She exhaled a happy sigh, and he scooped her up into his arms, kissing her thoroughly as he carried her to the bed.

* * *

They celebrated twice, then once more for good measure, before Friday reminded Bucky that he had a meeting. Nick Fury had appointed him and Tony to meet with delegates from the National Security Council to review if there were any threats that required assistance from the Avengers. It was an arrangement that they had agreed upon after the Accords had been overturned. They also met with the UN on a monthly basis and submitted reports to them after every mission. He had hoped that Steve would take over those duties since his return, but thus far, it remained his responsibility. Bucky groaned at the reminder.

"Guess that means I have to go," he said regretfully, skimming his fingers down her bare skin, tracing her curves, and pressing a kiss into the juncture of her neck and shoulder. She stirred and rolled back towards him with a rueful half-smile, reaching up to caress his face.

"I guess we'll have to finish celebrating later, then," she said with a lazy smile.

"Are you going to wait here for me?" Bucky asked, one eyebrow quirking upwards suggestively. "Like this?"

"Like this?" she repeated. "Oh, no. My publisher asked me to update one of my textbooks for a new edition, so I was going to work on that. And then maybe I'll check in on Wanda." She laughed softly at his reaction. "But I will hold that thought. It's not like getting undressed again is difficult."

"Mmm, true. Especially not with two hands." He kissed her again, the taste of him a reminder of what they would be continuing later, then was gone. She heard the shower start and crept from the bed. Pulling her robe on, she crouched down beside the squat mechanism that held the potential next generation. She reached out, trailing her fingers down the smooth side of the vaguely cylindrical apparatus. She could feel them, not so much presences as tiny sparks, glimmering dimly with the faintest hint of what they might someday become. She wrapped them in her love and hope, willing the tiny sparks to strengthen, brighten, flare to life. They grew infinitesimally brighter, or that might have just been her hopeful imagination.

* * *

Deciding she didn't feel up to rewriting just yet, Nyssa instead left the apartment. She took Darshan for his afternoon walk, and returned to Avengers tower. She stopped outside Wanda's door, Darshan obediently at her heel. She could see Wanda's exhausted energy sprawled on the couch, but the woman roused and came to the door. Relief and delight washed away some of the exhaustion as she recognized her friend on the other side of the door.

 _Nyssa, good to see you. Come in, but quietly. I finally got Petra down for a nap._ Nyssa heard the words in Wanda's voice in her head. Wanda opened the door and gestured for her to enter. _Care for some tea? Or coffee, I think there's still some in the coffee maker but it might be cold…._

 _Relax, Wanda. I'm not here to be entertained. Is there anything I can do to make your life easier right now? Have you eaten?_

 _Yes… well, kind of._ Wanda's reply was tinged with sheepish amusement. _Vision cooked breakfast for me. He tries hard, but still hasn't quite mastered it._

 _Say no more._ Nyssa found her way into the kitchen. With Darshan's help, she identified what was in the refrigerator, located the pans and set to work. It helped that the kitchen was set up identically to her own, but everything was organized differently. _How have things been going?_ she inquired as she worked, making conversation while Wanda melted back thankfully into the couch.

 _Great, great, it's all been great._ There was a slightly sarcastic tinge to her tone. _When I was pregnant, everyone was full of congratulations and how wonderful babies were, and how much I was going to love motherhood. Now that the baby is here, it's all jokes about how my life is over and I'll never sleep again. And don't get me wrong, I do love it, and I love her. I've just never been so exhausted before in my life, and I miss… talking to adults and doing adult things. I've fought aliens and monsters and robots and beings with cosmic powers, but now I just change diapers, feed a tiny person and try to keep her alive._ Nyssa smiled at the food cooking on the stove before her.

 _It feels less important, because it's more personal, and the results aren't immediately obvious. But you are raising the next generation. One day, we will leave this world in their hands._ Nyssa stepped back from the stove as she sensed a familiar presence – two of them, actually – drawing near and stopping outside of the door. _Speaking of raising the next generation…_ She turned her burner down to low and quickly crossed the apartment and opened the door to reveal a surprised Tony, hand poised to knock. Behind him, Aaron clung to his pant leg with one hand, rocking from one foot to the other.

"Nanny troubles again, Tony?" Nyssa inquired. Tony froze a moment, then dropped his hand.

"You know I hate when you do that," Tony grumbled. "But yes. I'm about to be late for the meeting. Barnes said you'd be here. Can I leave him with you?" Nyssa glanced over her shoulder at Wanda. _Can we handle another little one right now?_ The question was more for Wanda's benefit than hers; she was confident she could handle him, but she was not in her own home.

 _Sure. It will help me decide if another child is in the cards,_ the other woman replied.

"Sure, Tony. He'll be safe with us," Nyssa assured him. Tony nodded and extricated his pant leg from Aaron's grasp.

"Here, Aaron. You're going to stay with Auntie Nyssa until I get back, okay?" Tony's words were terse, trying for patient but failing. Aaron let out a keening wail and flopped backwards on the floor. "Come on, Aaron. Get up, right now." Tony's tone was stern, but the boy continued to flail loudly.

"Go on, Tony," Nyssa said with an encouraging wave of her hand. "You don't want to be late. I've got this."

"Thanks. I owe you." Tony glanced down at his howling son, then hurried away. Nyssa seated herself cross-legged on the floor near the crying toddler. Softly, she began to sing a soothing lullaby, one that he had particularly seemed to like. She heard doors opening down the hall, as curious eyes investigated what was causing the commotion in the hallway, but she ignored them. She reached the end of the lullaby and started again. By the end of the first verse, his sobs had quieted. He lay quietly on the floor of the hallway, listening without moving or looking at her. She reached the end again, and this time lapsed into silence. Aaron let out a wordless protest, patting the floor loudly with his little hand.

"Come in, and I'll sing to you some more," Nyssa promised, creeping back into the apartment. Aaron rolled onto his hands and knees and crawled after her. She closed the door gently and turned to see Aaron sitting on the carpet expectantly, rocking slightly. With a smile, she began to sing again, returning her attention to the food, which thankfully was not terribly scorched. She dished out a plate of it and set it in front of Wanda, still singing softly. She smiled as she noticed that Wanda had fallen asleep. Continuing her song, she assembled a small plate of finger foods and placed it on the coffee table.

"If you're hungry, Aaron, here's some snacks," she informed him quietly. Her peripheral senses informed her that Petra was beginning to stir and wake. Darshan sniffed at the low-lying plates of food. Nyssa snapped her fingers at him. "Darshan, leave it," she admonished. "Come." He obediently left the food alone and came over to her. "Sit. Stay." Dutifully, Darshan planted his hind end on the carpet. Nyssa turned and continued down the hall, confident that Darshan would wait for her. In the nursery, she could hear Petra making sleepy little grunts. Her fingers found the crib, and she bent over it, reaching down to scoop up the baby. Her hands bumped into the mattress before she touched Petra, and Nyssa frowned. Lying her palm flat on the mattress, she swept it from one end to the other, finding only soft, cool sheets. She could clearly see the soft glow of Petra's presence several inches below the mattress. Getting down on her hands and knees, her searching fingers found the soft, warm, sleepy baby nestled into the carpet beneath her crib. Nyssa pulled her into her arms and carried her back into the living room. Darshan was still waiting, just as she had left him. Aaron was perched on the coffee table, munching on one of the apple slices she had left out for him. Holding Petra to her chest, she settled down into the loveseat opposite Wanda. Wanda stirred and awakened, sitting up with a start.

"Must've dozed off," she mumbled, looking around. Her gaze lit on Petra in Nyssa's arms. "Oh, she's awake."

"She is, but I've got her. You eat," Nyssa said encouragingly. Wanda noticed the plate of food on the coffee table in front of her and picked it up.

"Thank you so much," she said fervently. "For all of this."

"Isn't that what friends are for?" Nyssa replied. She frowned slightly. "Wanda, where did you put Petra down for her nap?" Wanda's energy darkened with confusion at the strange question.

"In her crib, just like I always do," she replied. "Why?" Nyssa's fingers caressed Petra's brow as she cradled her in her arms.

"I found her… underneath the crib," she explained. This did nothing to lessen Wanda's confusion.

"How could she have possibly gotten there?" she wondered aloud. "She can't even roll over yet."

"I don't know," Nyssa replied. "But I suspect that she will give us an answer… eventually."

* * *

 **And we're back again! I hope to be updating this story a little more regularly going forward. Thanks to all my loyal readers!**


	19. Sword of Damocles

**Disclaimer: Marvel Characters are property of Marvel. Original Characters are mine. Just for fun, not for profit.**

* * *

 **Sword of Damocles**

Bucky drove up to the security checkpoint and showed his ID to the guard, who glanced from him to the card and back several times before handing it back and waving them through. Bucky glanced over at Nyssa as they pulled up to the prison. She was sitting quietly, her face drawn, and she hadn't been nearly as talkative as she usually was.

"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?" he asked her. She shook her head.

"I'll be okay. I'll have Darshan with me," she reminded him. "You read the notice; they don't want non-victims there. Besides, you have that meeting with Double Helix Entertainment. I'm going to want a play-by-play of how that goes." Bucky nodded.

"Yeah, it's still a bit surreal that they want to put me in a video game. Put _us_ in a video game," he mused.

"And pay you for the privilege, too," Nyssa reminded him. Bucky chuckled.

"The icing on the cake," he agreed. He leaned over and stroked her cheek. She turned her face towards him for a goodbye kiss. He made sure to send all the love and support he could through the press of his lips against hers, knowing she would be aware of it. "I love you. Good luck."

"Thanks. Love you, too." She got out and opened the door to the back seat. Darshan jumped down by her side, his ears pricked and head high on alert. A pair of guards met her outside the prison and escorted her inside. Bucky watched her disappear through the doors, trying to push away the feeling that he should be going with her. With a sigh, he shifted the car back into drive and pulled away.

* * *

The prison was only marginally warmer than the chill wind outside. Darshan's nails clicked along the institutional linoleum as they followed the guards along the echoing corridors. They led them to a room on the edge of the administrative section. Through Darshan's eyes, she could see that there was a single long table with three chairs behind it, a solo chair facing the table from several meters away, and rows of chairs set up on the opposite side of the table. A handful of people were already seated in the audience, and the three chairs at the table were occupied by two women and a man. Nyssa found a seat at the edge of the row in the front. She could hear murmurs around her as some of the others recognized her, but she ignored them and focused instead on the lone chair at the front of the room.

"This parole hearing is now in session," the man at the table called out, and the idle conversations in the room died away. "We are considering the case for early release of inmate Kenneth Sturdy. The board would first hear a statement from Dr. Taylor." Nyssa stood and walked forward.

"I also have a letter," she informed the board members. "From Gabriele Barton, formerly Gabriele Sturdy." She slid the envelope across the table to them. One of the women took it. Nyssa took a few steps back and stood quietly.

"I have not had contact with Mr. Sturdy since his sentencing," she admitted. "But at that time, he was not remorseful. He did not feel he had done anything wrong, even though his unethical research caused his subjects a great deal of pain and suffering. His last words to me were that he blamed me for his incarceration, and that he would have his revenge on me someday. I am not confident that five years would be enough time to shift his perspective. I fear that his release would not only put myself and my family in harm's way, but would also endanger his other victims, including his daughter."

"Just to clarify for the board, Dr. Taylor, Mr. Sturdy is the reason you require your seeing-eye dog, correct?" One of the women asked. Nyssa nodded.

"Yes, ma'am," she confirmed. "He severed my optic nerve. It is my understanding that this was not done as a part of his experiment, but rather as a punishment for attempting to escape." A murmur of astonishment rippled through the room, but quickly subsided.

"The board thanks you for your statement and will take it into consideration for our decision." Nyssa bowed slightly, then returned to her seat. There were a handful of others present who also gave statements, other victims of Sturdy's cruel research, or family members left behind by those who had not survived. None of them seemed eager to have him released from the prison. After over an hour of statements from the victims, there was a pause. Two guards brought a shackled Sturdy into the room and flanked him as he sat in the chair.

"Kenneth Sturdy, this board has convened today to determine if you are appropriate for early release. Do you have anything to say on your behalf?" Sturdy sat up a little straighter.

"Yes, I do. I would sincerely request that the board give my petition serious consideration," He replied. "I have done a lot of thinking while I have been here, and I have seen the error of my ways. I fell prey to the influence of a powerful man when I found myself in the employment of Count Nefaria. I hope the board can see that the unfortunate incidents that I was charged with were mostly at his behest. I hope they can also see that what I did, I did in the name of science. I advanced our knowledge of what the human body can be capable of. In that respect, one could argue that I did nearly as much good as harm." The energy in the room chilled considerably as anger flared at his non-apology.

"Mr. Sturdy, after that response, we do not believe you have seen the error of your ways. You have not taken any responsibility for the choices you made that caused grievous harm to others," the man at the table intoned. "Your petition for early release is denied." Sturdy shouted a protest, but the guards were already ushering him out of the chair and towards the door. Nyssa felt his gaze on her, and his countenance flushed with fury.

"You!" he snarled, and took a step in her direction. The guards immediately seized his arms and rushed him out the door. The door slammed shut behind him, leaving Nyssa feeling slightly rattled.

* * *

She was only too happy to leave the prison grounds, with its deafening echoes of unsettled anger and pain. A block away from the prison, a car pulled up alongside her, slowing down to match her pace. She heard the window roll down.

"Hey, little lady. Did you just get out of the big house? I bet you could use a ride." Nyssa shook her head and rolled her eyes at the familiar voice.

"I dunno. The guards warned me there might be people waiting to take advantage," she mused out loud, leaning in the open car window.

"Well, if you need a ride into town, I'm sure we can work something out," came the snarky reply. Nyssa grinned and opened the passenger-side door to let Darshan in the back seat, then settled herself into the front seat. "You know, you were supposed to meet me at the entrance," Seraphina reminded her archly. Nyssa sighed.

"I know, but I couldn't stand to be near that place for another minute. Between the guards and the inmates, there's so much emotional pain…." Nyssa shook her head. "I was going to message you if you didn't see me."

"How did it go?" Sera asked as she pulled back onto the road.

"Well, he's not being released," Nyssa replied quietly. Sera flashed a quizzical glance towards her friend.

"And that's good, right?" she prompted. "Wasn't that the whole reason you went before the board, to make sure he wasn't released?"

"Yes," Nyssa agreed. "But he saw me after they denied his request, and I got the distinct feeling that he blamed me for their denial."

"What?" Seraphina sputtered. "That's ridiculous. I know for a fact there were at least five others there to speak against him, plus the letter from Gabi…" Nyssa shot her a surprised look. "What? I have friends everywhere. It's my job to know things like this. My point is, you were only a small part of the equation."

"Let's just say he has a long history of blaming things on me, so it wouldn't exactly be a stretch for him to pin this on me, too," Nyssa said ruefully. She shook her head. "I'll just have to trust that keeping him locked up will be enough to ensure our safety. From him, anyway." She exhaled loudly, leaning her head back against the seat. "Enough about Sturdy, though. I'm looking forward to our afternoon out. Are Rani and Mic going to meet us there?"

"I don't think so," Sera replied with a shake of her head. "Mic's dealing with a huge catering order that came in last minute, and Rani texted that she ended up working a double last night, so she didn't think she would make it. Guess it's just you and me."

"I guess so." Nyssa frowned reflexively. "Although, I can think of someone who might appreciate an invitation to get out of the house…"

* * *

"Are you sure?" Wanda asked, eyes wide. "I don't want to impose. I'm still not 100%, and I can't promise that Petra won't cry while we're out."

"Of course," Nyssa reassured her. "It's not an imposition. Do you want to join us?"

"Do I want to leave the apartment and spend time with friends who care about me, eat good food, try on cute clothes and have adult conversations?" Wanda replied with a glint of humor in her eyes. "Yes, I absolutely do. Just give me ten minutes to, ah, freshen up a little."

* * *

It took slightly more than ten minutes, but half an hour later they were all back in Sera's Tesla Model S. Wanda settled anxiously into the back seat next to Petra's newly installed carseat. Darshan whined slightly about being moved to the rear-facing jump seats in the very back, but settled in comfortably enough. As Seraphina pulled away from Avenger's Tower, Wanda leaned forward.

"So, what exactly do we have planned?" she inquired.

"I have an event coming up that requires a new outfit to wear," Sera explained cryptically. Wanda tilted her head curiously.

"What kind of event?" she inquired. Seraphina frowned, checking her mirrors as she changed lanes.

"Just a little ceremony," she replied distractedly. Nyssa chuckled.

"What she isn't telling you is that she is being awarded the Stanley Leiber Humanitarian award for her good work fighting for social justice and helping to uplift the downtrodden of our community," Nyssa announced with a proud grin.

"Yeah, that," Sera confirmed with a vague wave of her hand.

"Well, congratulations!" Wanda replied. "That sounds like a great honor."

"Sure it is," Sera acknowledged, her tone less than convincing.

"You don't sound excited," Wanda observed. Sera didn't respond right away as she navigated the crowded New York City streets.

"She's not as excited about it as she otherwise would be because they gave the same award to me a couple years ago," Nyssa admitted.

"For the second time," Sera interjected, holding two fingers up. "She's won it twice. Once for Phoenix Rising Foundation, once for Patchwork Doll Search and Rescue.

"That doesn't reduce the impact of your accomplishments," Nyssa argued. "It doesn't make it less of an achievement."

"Doesn't it?" Sera countered, swiveling her head towards Nyssa with raised eyebrows before returning her attention to the road.

"It's not a contest," Nyssa replied placidly. "The more changemakers we have, the better off society is. What you do is different from what I do, but it's no less important."

"True," Sera conceded. She sighed. "So, what do you think? Madison Avenue, or Fifth?"

"Hey, I'm the blind one here," Nyssa pointed out. "You lead, I'll follow." Sera snorted.

"I'll have to mark today on the calendar," she noted. "For once, you don't have an opinion."

"My opinion is that you're going to be a knockout no matter what," Nyssa retorted with a grin. Sera gave her a hard look, but then her expression softened. She sighed and refocused her attention on the road ahead of her.

"Are you bringing a date to the ceremony?" Wanda asked with interest, leaning forward. Sera glanced at her in the rearview mirror.

"Why, are you asking to be my date, Wanda?" she asked, a glint of humor in her voice. Wanda laughed.

"I mean, it sounds like a good time," she mused. "I don't know how Vision would feel about it, though."

"You're not my type, anyway," Sera said with a wink, then cleared her throat. "Ahem. I do have a date, actually. I'm bringing Steve." Nyssa grinned over at her friend, while Wanda's countenance registered surprise.

"That's still going well, huh?" Nyssa observed, sounding pleased.

"Surprisingly enough," Sera confirmed. "Who would have thought America's Boy Scout would go for the tough-as-nails lawyer?" Nyssa raised her hand.

"You both have a strong sense of justice, you stand by your convictions and you've both got hearts of gold," Nyssa listed off. "I'm not shocked at all."

"You've certainly all been keeping it quiet, though," Wanda observed. "I didn't even know Steve was seeing anyone. How long have you been going out?"

"We started talking at Nyssa's wedding, but it took him a few months before he asked me on a date. The ceremony will actually be our six-month anniversary," Sera replied, a little smile playing around her lips. "Maybe then I'll be able to talk him into more than just a kiss." Nyssa's eyebrows shot up.

"Still?" she asked in disbelief. Seraphina sighed.

"He has a lot of admirable qualities, and we always have a good time together. But the man moves as slowly as that glacier he was frozen in," she said ruefully.

"Feeling a bit frustrated?" Nyssa asked sympathetically.

"To say the least," Seraphina agreed.

"Want me to have Bucky talk to him?" she offered. Sera shook her head.

"I think that's something we just have to figure out for ourselves," she sighed. "Maybe a frank discussion is due." Sera frowned and leaned forward slightly. "Help me start looking for a parking space. I swear, parking is the worst part of driving in this city."

"That's why I usually take the subway," Nyssa offered.

"You also can't drive," Sera countered. "I'm also not taking a brand-new fancy dress with me on the subway." She slowed down, then shook her head and sped up again. "I swear, as soon as the weather gets cooler, everyone forgets how to park." Conversation ceased as both Seraphina and Wanda scanned the streets for any empty spaces. Finally, Sera pulled into a parking ramp, hoping to have more luck there. She drove up four levels, paused behind a Mini Cooper that fooled them into thinking it was an empty space, cursed under her breath and moved on. Sera was almost growling by the time she found a space, but the cars on either side were parked over the line, leaving a space several feet narrower than it was designed to be. "Should I chance it?" Sera asked. Wanda leaned forward to evaluate the situation and raised her hand. The vehicles on either side glowed red, rose an inch in the air and drifted back over their respective lines before settling back down onto the pavement. Sera stared at the parking spot, which now left plenty of room for her car to fit, then glanced back at Wanda in astonishment. "You are welcome to come downtown with me any time," she announced, then pulled triumphantly into the space.

* * *

Sam's eyes narrowed and shifted to look appraisingly at each of his opponents. His gaze moved from Bucky to Steve, then swung towards Natasha, shifted to Bruce, then Clint, and finally eyed Tony. With a shake of his head, he folded up the cards in his hand and laid them face-down on the table before him.

"I fold," he announced. Natasha hooted and dragged the pile of chips from the middle of the table to the smaller pile in front of her, which was still larger than everyone else's piles. The others groaned.

"You know she's going to be reminding us of this for the next three months, right?" Tony grumbled.

"Come on, Tony," Natasha purred. "One more hand, double or nothing." Tony shook his head.

"Look, I promised Pepper I'd be home to help with Aaron's bedtime," he explained. "Otherwise I would." Natasha leaned back in her chair with a lazy grin.

"That's all right, Tony," she replied. "I'll cash out my chips now." She pushed the stack of poker chips towards him. He sighed and got out his wallet.

"What about you guys?" Sam asked, looking over at Bucky and Steve. "You gonna turn in early, too?"

"There isn't much point in staying up when the bank's gone home," Steve pointed out.

"I've gotta find out what happened at the parole hearing today," Bucky recalled. "And Nyssa wanted a play by play of the meeting today."

"Speaking of which," Sam interjected, "thanks for sticking up for me during the meeting." Bucky shrugged.

"If they want to make an Avengers game, they need to include all of us," he said simply. "If they want my Captain America and the Winter Soldier, they have to have Falcon, too."

"Yeah, but I still appreciate you putting your neck on the line for me," Sam replied.

"Who else would I harass during missions if they don't put you in?" Bucky countered with a smirk. Sam rolled his eyes and socked Bucky in the shoulder. He grimaced as he immediately realized his mistake in trying that from the left side. With a wordless exclamation, he shook the pain from his hand. Bucky raised an eyebrow at him. Sam shook his head.

"Don't even say it," he warned Bucky. Bucky smirked but didn't comment further. Instead, he turned to his right, where Clint was pacing down the hall beside him. Clint was mid-yawn.

"Long day?" Bucky asked. Clint nodded.

"After the meeting, I dropped Gabi off at her young entrepreneur's meeting, took Nate to soccer practice and Grace to her violin lesson, and then Lila had an archery competition," Clint explained. "But we all got home in time for dinner, and then Laura took over homework and bedtime so I could come hang out. Well, and Shuri. She's been helping Lila troubleshoot her project. For all I know, they might still be up when I get back." Bucky exhaled loudly.

"That sounds intense," he commented. Clint grinned sheepishly.

"Guess I've always thrived in chaos," he said glibly.

"Explains why you like to hang around with me," Natasha interjected from behind them. They all drifted in the directions of their respective apartments, calling and murmuring their good-byes. Bucky paused at his door and glanced over his shoulder at Steve, who was opening the door to his own apartment.

"Hey, Steve," he called. The blond man paused and turned to look at Bucky, who hesitated. A part of him wanted to tell Steve what was going on, that he was going to be a father, and all of the various thoughts and worries that filled his head surrounding that topic. But he and Nyssa had discussed waiting until the process was further along before surprising everyone with the news, and he also had distinct memories from childhood of being scolded for announcing that his mother was pregnant when she hadn't given him permission. It was still so new. He hadn't yet sorted out all the feelings that roiled through him every time he remembered that he was going to be a father. Steve was still paused, turned expectantly towards Bucky. "Have a good night," Bucky finished lamely.

"You too, Buck," Steve replied, and then vanished into his apartment. Bucky unlocked his door and made his way into the dark apartment. Darshan was curled up on his bed in the corner of their room. He knew Nyssa was home, but their bed was empty, and it didn't feel like she was sleeping. He found her in their closet, kneeling next to the emulator. Bucky paused in the doorway, watching as she ran her hands over the semi-opaque glass in something like a caress. She knew he was there – she was the one person he couldn't sneak up on – but didn't acknowledge him immediately.

"Hey," he said softly, when the silence grew too loud. "Everything okay?" She sat back, her restless hands dropping to her lap.

"They're fine," she replied, her voice matching his in volume. "Growing stronger and brighter every day. All the readings are within Shuri's guidelines."

"That's good to know," Bucky affirmed, coming into the closet and seating himself on the floor next to her. "That's also not what I was asking."

"Sturdy isn't going to be released," Nyssa said carefully, leaning towards him. "But he also still seems to be holding a grudge."

"Not the first time we've made enemies," Bucky said neutrally. "But we're surrounded by the Avengers in one of the most secure buildings in the city, if not the country. There isn't anywhere safer for us to be. Or for them." He gestured towards the cylinder that held their precious cargo.

"I know," Nyssa sighed, and rested her head on his shoulder. He put his arm around her and pulled her closer. "It's not like we can keep them locked away in Avenger's Tower for their entire lives, though. They have to be able to live, too."

"I guess we'll just have to learn to expect low-level panic whenever they're not with us," Bucky said glibly. Nyssa gave him a dirty look.

"Is that supposed to be comforting?" she asked him archly. He shrugged.

"I mean, you get used to it," he pointed out nonchalantly. "I've had lots of practice. First Steve, before the serum, now you. What's couple more?" She narrowed her eyes at him.

"I am an adult," she said defensively.

"Who is technically blind," he reminded her, "in a world that isn't generally built to accommodate blind people. Not to mention you're – what's the word Bruce uses? Squishy. You don't have super strength, armor or accelerated healing."

"It's true my constitution stats leave something to be desired," Nyssa admitted. "Though I think my bonuses in other categories make up for…" She trailed off as Bucky shifted towards her and reached up to caress her cheek.

"Nobody is arguing your value to the team, or as a person," he said softly, cupping her face in his hands. "You are… irreplaceable. I'm just saying that I worry. But I wouldn't have it any other way." She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch, reaching up to cover his hands with hers. He felt the warmth of her fingers against his skin, and then was hit by a wave of effervescent joy that broke over him, then submerged him in deep, soothing love and gratitude.

"Sometimes I love you so much I feel like I could burst," she whispered. He let out a low chuckle.

"Well, that's mutual," he assured her. Getting to his feet, he pulled gently on her hand. "Come on, let's go to bed." She easily regained her feet, not letting go of his hand as he led her out of the closet.

* * *

 **Thanks to DarylDixon'sLover, karina001 and Qweb, my most loyal readers, for your lovely comments and feedback!**


	20. With a Little Help from our Friends

**Disclaimer: Marvel Characters are property of Marvel. Original Characters are mine. Just for fun, not for profit.**

* * *

 **With a Little Help from our Friends**

Bucky bent to pull the casserole dish out of the oven with Balaur perched on his shoulder. In the living room, the Thanksgiving Parade scrolled lazily across the screen. He remembered going to see it with his family as a kid, and there was something comforting about the tradition carrying on, though he was glad it was now televised so he could still see it when he didn't feel up to navigating the crowds. Bucky set the dish down to cool for a moment, then put his hand up to tickle Balaur's feet. The tiny dragon moved forward to perch on the back of Bucky's hand. Bucky transferred the reptile back into his habitat.

"I promise I'll bring lots of turkey back for you," he vowed, closing the door to the habitat and latching it. Balaur braced his front feet against the side of the cage and chirruped. Bucky scratched the top of his head. Turning off the television, he grabbed the still-warm dish and headed out the door. He stepped into the elevator and stood there expectantly.

"Hey, Friday," he spoke into the air. "I hope I'm not too late for Thanksgiving dinner."

"Not at all," Friday replied as the elevator began moving upwards. "You're not even the last to arrive." The elevator rose to the penthouse apartment at the top of Avengers Tower. The doors opened, and Bucky stepped out into the lavish residence that Tony Stark called home. A wall of floor-to-ceiling windows looked out over the city to the north and east, and a water feature trickled down the side of the stone fireplace set into the south wall. A long table was set up in the spacious dining area, covered with a white linen tablecloth and gilded with gold details and fall-hued decorations.

"Oh, good, Bucky, you're here!" Pepper came towards him with a smile, resplendent in a cream-colored dress. He nodded at her and raised the dish in his hands.

"Where would you like me to put this?" he asked. Pepper waved a hand vaguely.

"The kitchen is fine," she directed. "Is Nyssa coming?" Bucky nodded.

"She stayed late at the Bowery Mission after we finished serving dinner. Something about helping to pack up dinners for the homebound," he said, "But she should be here soon." Pepper's smile widened.

Pepper's smile widened.

"Of course," she recalled. "Well, come and join us after you've dropped that off. We're in the study having aperitifs." Bucky nodded and carried his green bean casserole into the kitchen. The counters were already crowded with sumptuous-looking dishes, and he stomach growled. He had skipped breakfast that morning, knowing there would be a huge meal coming up. A trio of cooks bustled about the expansive kitchen. Bucky sidestepped to get out of the way and set his casserole dish down. It looked a bit sub-par beside the rest of the fancy dishes, but he felt better to be contributing something. He swiped a couple bite-sized appetizers on his way out of the kitchen. The jalapeno-cream-cheese-stuffed olive had more of a kick than he was expecting, but the cranberry and ricotta-topped crostini cooled his mouth off considerably. Both were delicious. He reached the study. Over by the couch, Tony and Bruce were engaged in an animated discussion. Aaron sat in a corner, focused intently on a set of brightly-colored stacking blocks. He didn't seem aware that other people were there. Wanda and Natasha were on the couch cooing over Petra, while Vision was absorbed in mixing drinks over by the cart. Thor approached Bucky with a broad grin.

"Thor, I wasn't expecting you to be here," he said with surprise. Thor took a swig of his drink.

"I enjoy experiencing your Midgardian customs," he said jovially. "In Asgard, we also had feasts to celebrate the vanquishing of our enemies." Bucky frowned and shook his head.

"No, that's not what we celebrate on Thanksgiving," he explained. "It was because the Native Americans helped the Pilgrims survive their first winter here, to celebrate the successful harvest."

"No, Thor's not entirely wrong." Bucky turned to see Seraphina and Steve coming into the study. Sera raised an eyebrow at him. "There's definitely some scholars that argue that it traces back to a celebration of the slaughter of hundreds of Pequot men, women and children by the colonists," she said.

"Wait, that's not what they taught us in school," Steve protested with a deep frown. Sera turned towards him with a half-smile and a twinkle in her eye.

"History is written by the winners," she reminded him. "There weren't many teachers willing to explain the long and bloody conflicts that this country was founded on to a bunch of third graders. Especially since the truth doesn't always paint the settlers in the best light."

"So there was never a meal between the Natives and the Pilgrims?" Steve asked, looking a little like a kicked puppy. "What about Squanto? Was he made up?"

"No, he existed," she reassured him. "And there was a meal that the Puritans and the Wampanoag ate civilly, in relatively close proximity. But it wasn't the sanitized, friendly affair we all learned about in school."

"What, you mean the story of American exceptionalism we all grew up being taught was spun to make our ancestors look better?" Bucky asked mockingly, with exaggerated shock. "That would never happen." He had seen enough of the darker side of humanity that revelations like this no longer surprised him. Steve gave him a dirty look.

"I think we can all agree that, despite its murky history, the spirit of Thanksgiving and being grateful for all of the blessings in our life, is something we can still embrace," Nyssa offered from Bucky's elbow. He swiveled towards her in surprise. He hadn't been aware of her arrival, but she had a drink in hand and was standing poised beside him as if she had been mingling all along. Vision walked over with a small tray of freshly-mixed drinks, which he offered to the new arrivals.

"Well, I'll drink to that," Steve declared, lifting a glass in a toast. "We have much to be thankful for." He glanced over at Seraphina, and she slipped her hand into his. They all clinked their glasses together. Bucky drained his glass as all of his blessings flickered through his mind's eye. Nyssa, his friends, a home, good food, and the promise of children in his future… he couldn't think of anything that he was lacking. A sense of contentment settled over him. He rested his hand lightly on Nyssa's shoulder. She smiled at him and tilted her face up in an invitation for a kiss that he gladly accepted.

"Welcome, Steve, Seraphina," Pepper said warmly, coming up beside them. Tony got up from the couch and wandered over. He pointed at Seraphina with a slight frown, then pointed to Nyssa.

"Is she here with you?" he asked. Sera raised an eyebrow at him, and Steve made a long-suffering face. It wasn't exactly a secret anymore; after they had attended the awards ceremony together the tabloids had a field day. Tony was either completely oblivious or being antagonistic.

"Very funny, Tony," he said shortly. "She's with me. Seraphina and I are… well, she's my, um, girlfriend." He seemed a little uneasy with the label, but Seraphina stepped closer in to him, pulled their linked hands so Steve's arm was around her waist, and looked Tony in the eye.

"Oh, really?" Tony asked skeptically. Seraphina gave him a scornful look.

"Yes, Tony, really," she said flatly. Tony shrugged.

"No accounting for taste, I suppose," he said dismissively. Pepper's smile was starting to look a little forced. She leaned over closer to Tony and gave him a peck on the cheek.

"Behave, Tony," she murmured in his ear. Tony's expression became more contrite.

"I'm sorry. Can I get anyone a refill?" he asked. Bucky held up his empty glass, and Tony went to join Vision over by the dry bar.

"The two of you make a lovely couple," Pepper assured Seraphina and Steve.

"Thank you," Steve replied. "I think so, too." Sera glanced over at him with a little smile. Nyssa grinned at her friend and took another sip of her club soda. Pepper gestured at the doorway, and the caterers brought in a table loaded with elegant trays of fancy appetizers.

"Help yourself to some hors d'oeuvres," Pepper said encouragingly. "The meal should be ready in another hour."

* * *

The amount of food that ten adults and a toddler – including two super soldiers and a Norse god - could put away was almost obscene. It wasn't often that Bucky ate enough to actually feel overfull, but after a couple plates of appetizer and generous helpings of turkey and all the traditional accompaniments, he had to loosen his belt a little. He sat back, feeling satisfied.

"Anybody leave room for dessert?" Bruce asked. A chorus of groans from around the table answered in the negative.

"Are you sure?" Steve asked teasingly. "We brought pie." Seraphina nodded.

"Traditional pumpkin, French Silk, and Steve insisted on apple," she announced, with an affectionate and teasing smile directed at Steve.

"Let me digest for a bit, and then I'll have a couple pieces," Bruce promised. They migrated away from the table and into the living room to digest and relax. The caterers began to clear the dirty dishes away. Aaron was still seated in his high chair to the side of the big table. Mashed potatoes were spread across his tray and smeared into his face and hair. The white carpet underneath his chair was littered with scraps of turkey, cranberries, stuffing and green beans. Tony looked disconcerted at the mess, and approached the toddler with a wet cloth.

"Okay, Aaron, let's get you cleaned up," he said, and swooped in with the cloth to wipe the turkey dinner from his son's face. Aaron arched back and shrieked loudly, twisting away from the damp invader and flailing wildly. "No, just… hold still…" Tony muttered through clenched teeth as he attempted to clean up the wriggling toddler. "Pepper, a little help here!" he called over his shoulder. Pepper crossed the room to him and shook her head slightly.

"It's your turn," she reminded him. He sighed and made a gesture of frustration.

"I know, but he's not listening to me," he complained sotto voce. "Did he have his nap today?"

"How do you not know that?" Pepper hissed. "You were here, too!" Aaron's wailing changed in pitch and became even louder.

"Hey, guys?" Nyssa interrupted quietly from behind them. They turned towards her inquiringly. "Why don't you go mingle and relax? I'll get Aaron cleaned up. I haven't had the stress of putting together a party all day." Pepper and Tony exchanged a look, torn between wanting to argue that it was their parental duty and relieved that someone else was offering to deal with the squalling child. After a moment, Tony handed the damp rag over to Nyssa. Pepper lingered a moment longer, an expression of perplexed worry on her elegant features. Then, with a shake of her head, she left as well. Nyssa ducked back into the kitchen for a moment and ran warm water over the cloth. Returning to the dining room, she approached the toddler-filled high chair.

Aaron flailed at her with shooing motions. She allowed him to push her hand away, channeling away some of the distress he was expressing. He quieted slightly. She placed the rag on the tray and left it there. Aaron pushed it, then pulled it back, watching how the cloth moved over the plastic surface. With a soft cry, he threw the cloth onto the floor. Nyssa echoed the cry, picked the cloth back up and put it on the tray. Aaron swirled it around the tray, then flung it on the floor again with a giggle. It was a game now. Nyssa retrieved the cloth again and placed it in front of him. The game continued for several minutes. Aaron swished and swirled the cloth around the tray, then threw the rag onto the ground over and over. Nyssa paid attention to where it sounded like it landed, felt for the dampness with her fingers, and returned the cloth again and again. Aaron draped it over his face and head, dragging it over his hair, and flung it as hard as he could. It splatted against the wall and left a wet streak as it slid down to the floor. Aaron screeched in delight and clapped his hands.

"Okay, are you ready to get down now?" Nyssa asked. Aaron raised his arms up, then grabbed her hand and guided it to the clasp of the harness holding him in place. She unlatched it and lifted him out of the seat. He toddled off, and she went to go join the adults. Bucky had been watching the entire scene play out from across the room with amusement. He smiled to himself as she joined Pepper, Wanda and Petra on the long sectional, then turned his attention back to the discussion that Steve and Thor were having about the appropriate attributes necessary in a throwing weapon. Over in the corner, Seraphina and Natasha were absorbed in their own conversation. Bruce and Tony were sitting on the couch facing the massive television mounted on the wall, controllers in their hands as a pair of robots fought each other onscreen while Vision looked on with interest.

"Sir, Sam Wilson is on his way up," Friday announced. "With a guest." Bucky looked over to the elevator in time to see the elevator doors open and Sam exit. Behind him, a tall, slender woman followed, looking around Tony's opulent abode with wide eyes and an amazed expression. Steve raised a hand and waved at the new arrival. Sam grinned and came over to them, his mysterious companion in tow.

"Hey, Sam," Steve greeted him. "I wasn't sure you'd make an appearance today." Sam shrugged easily.

"Hey, it might not be as fancy as all this," he said, waving his hand around to include everything in the penthouse suite, "but nothing beats my mama's cooking on Thanksgiving." He patted his stomach in satisfaction. "But I still wanted to stop by and introduce you to Izumi." He gestured to the woman next to him. She smiled shyly and extended her hand towards Steve, who shook it politely.

"Very pleased to meet you," she said fervently. Her eyes darted from Steve to Bucky to Thor, to Tony over on the couch, to Wanda, Nyssa and Natasha. "Wow, I feel a little…"

"Overwhelmed?" Sam suggested. She shook her head and glanced at him askance.

"Underpowered," she finished.

"Well, we're not planning on a fight," Sam pointed out flippantly.

"Speak for yourself, Wilson," Tony quipped from the couch as he pressed a combination of buttons that delivered a series of punishing blows to Bruce's robot on screen.

"Besides, you do have superpowers," Sam said smoothly. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Oh, really?" she asked.

"What powers do you have?" Steve asked curiously.

"She's a nurse," Sam informed them. "And she makes a mean Beef Wellington." He gave her a look that made Bucky think he was referencing something specific. The smile she returned made it evident that Sam had scored some points. He flashed her a grin in response and rested his hand on her back. "She's a traveler and doesn't have any family nearby, but I didn't want her to be alone on for the holiday."

"That was very nice of you," Pepper observed, drawing nearer as she noticed their new guests.

"Yes, he's been very kind and considerate," Izumi agreed. Bucky raised his eyebrows at Sam.

"How come the rest of us don't get to see that side of you?" he jibed.

"Maybe if you were a little nicer to me, you would," Sam retorted.

"Guys," Steve said warningly.

"Can I get you drinks or anything?" Pepper asked, steering the conversation in a new direction. "We'll be having desserts a little later."

"I'm okay, thanks," Izumi replied. She turned towards Steve. "It's Steve, right?" Sam let out a huff of air.

"I'm sorry, where are my manners?" he realized. "Yes, this is Steve. This asshole right here is Bucky, and over there on the couch is his wife Nyssa. The one sitting next to her with the baby is Wanda. The two redheads in the corner are Natasha and Seraphina – Sera is the taller one – and the two playing rock 'em sock 'em robots over there are Tony and Bruce. The dude in the cardigan is Vision. Oh, and this guy right here is Thor." Sam gestured around the room as he introduced everyone. Thor gave Izumi a brilliant smile as Sam introduced him and extended his hand.

"A pleasure, fair lady," he rumbled, and kissed the back of her fingers. She let out a little laugh, her cheeks turning slightly pink. Sam deftly retrieved her hand from Thor's.

"All right, Casanova, that's enough," he chided. Izumi let her hand be pulled away, but continued to smile at Thor.

"I've heard of you," she recalled. "Is it true that you can control lightning?"

"I am the God of Thunder," Thor acknowledged. Izumi nodded.

"So, would it be possible for you to provide power to an entire city with your lightning strikes?" she asked. "Could you be kind of a backup generator?" Thor's expression grew thoughtful.

"I am not certain," he admitted. "But perhaps I will have to find out."

"Providing cities with power is more my gig," Tony interjected from the couch, glancing over his shoulder. On the screen, Bruce's robot knocked Tony's over and pounded it repeatedly. The end screen appeared, indicating a victory for Bruce. Tony set down his controller with a sigh and got up, crossing the room over to them. "Speaking of which, I had a power-related question for you, Barnes. I keep track of where all the power we generate goes in this tower. Usually, my workshop draws the most, but for the past couple months, your apartment has been giving it a run for the money. What on earth do you have down there that's drawing so much power? If you've got a grow operation going down there, you really should share the goods with the rest of us." Bucky glanced over at Nyssa, who felt his attention on her and came closer to find out what they were discussing.

 _Should we tell them?_ He silently asked his wife. She considered it for a moment, then nodded.

"Well, Tony, there is something that we've been hiding," Bucky admitted out loud. Conversations dropped away as all of the attention in the room suddenly focused on him. Nyssa's hand slipped into his, and he glanced around sheepishly. "It's kind of complicated to explain, though. Maybe we should just show you."

* * *

Their walk-in closet was spacious by most standards, but it was awfully crowded with twelve adults crammed into it. They stood in a semi-circle facing the meter-tall, cylindrical device. There was a pregnant pause as everyone pondered Bucky's explanation. Tony was the one to break the silence.

"So, wait, you're telling us that there's a baby in there?" he asked, pointing to the emulator. Nyssa shook her head.

"No, Tony," she corrected him, kneeling next to it and flipping a switch on the side. A display panel lit up with the image of the treasure it held. "There are two babies in there." The pause lasted a moment longer, and then the closet became deafening with everyone's reactions, their words overlapping to the point of becoming unintelligible. Seraphina picked Nyssa up and squeezed her tight.

"How could you not tell me?" she murmured in Nyssa's ear to be heard over the excited chatter. "I'm so happy for you!" Nyssa returned the hug, suddenly tearing up.

"Thanks. I wanted to tell you," she replied. "But I didn't want to jinx it." Steve clapped Bucky on the back.

"Congrats, Buck," he said sincerely. "You did it." Bucky grinned, feeling both proud and grateful.

"Well, not just me," he pointed out. "We had… quite a bit of help."

"So when are you due?" Sam asked. Bucky hesitated.

"We're not quite sure on that part," he admitted.

* * *

 **Thanks to karina001, Qweb and DarylDixon'sLover for reading and reviewing!**


	21. Unexpected Visitors

**Disclaimer: Marvel Characters are property of Marvel. Original Characters are mine. Just for fun, not for profit.**

 **Content warning: This chapter contains sexual content.**

* * *

 **Unexpected Visitors**

"…Christmas Eve will find me, where the love light gleams, I'll be home for Christmas, if only in my dreams." Nyssa sang along to the music playing in their apartment as she carefully hung ornaments on the Fraser fir that Bucky had erected in the corner. The scent of pine blended with the smell of the apple cider simmering on the stove, putting her in a definite holiday mood.

"That's… really kind of a depressing song," Bucky noted. "I remember hearing it on the radio all the time when I was deployed in Europe. A lot of the guys were already missing home. I was never sure if the song made it better or worse."

"Do you want me to change the song?" Nyssa asked, feeling for a branch and slipping the loop from a sparkly green ornament over it. Bucky shook his head.

"No, that's okay. It might have taken longer than I liked, but I'm home now." He looked down at the commemorative ornament Nyssa had gifted to him the first Christmas after their wedding. It was a pair of swans with necks entwined in a heart shape and their anniversary date painted across their bodies. He smiled and hung it near the top of the tree. Between the music and the general ambiance in their home, he was definitely getting into a holiday mood. He was caught by surprise by a knock at the door. Nyssa glanced over at him quizzically.

"Did you know Shuri was coming by for a visit?" she asked.

"I did not," Bucky denied. "Apparently the princess isn't fond of calling ahead." He went to answer the door. Shuri hugged him in greeting, then strode regally into their abode. She paused as she took in the decorations scattered around the apartment, the tree in the corner, the lights and garlands adorning the walls and entryways.

"You are preparing for a winter celebration?" she guessed.

"Yes, Christmas," Bucky confirmed. Shuri nodded thoughtfully.

"Fascinating," she commented, gazing around the apartment. "What is the significance of the tree?"

"Umm…" Bucky was stumped. "It's… traditional." He knew it was what was done but had never really stopped to consider why.

"Stolen from pagan traditions," Nyssa contributed helpfully, hanging another ornament on the tree. "Originally supposed to be a reminder that spring will come again. Now, just a place to put your presents under."

"Ah," Shuri acknowledged, then made a face as she contemplated stolen traditions. "I am here to check on your offspring," she continued, switching topics.

"Of course." Bucky gestured for her to follow him and led her back to their bedroom. She crouched down by the container and pulled out a palm-sized tablet. Nyssa joined them a minute later, Darshan following closely behind her. She stood next to Bucky in the doorway, and both of them watched anxiously as Shuri looked over the data.

"Wow!" Shuri exclaimed softly to herself. " _That can't be correct,"_ she muttered in Wakandan. Nyssa's hand slipped into Bucky's, and he could feel her tension and concern, mirroring his.

"Everything okay?" Bucky asked. Shuri glanced back at them.

"They are doing very well," she confirmed. "I had hypothesized that there would be an increased rate of development, but they are further along than I had estimated. Chronologically, they are nine weeks along. Developmentally, they are scanning at almost nineteen weeks. I would not be surprised if they reached term in another ten weeks." Stunned, Bucky leaned against the doorframe. That was a much shorter timetable than he had expected.

"They have been going through the nutrient mix faster than I expected," Nyssa said thoughtfully. "The tanks are depleted in about three days, when you said they should last a week."

"I will have more sent," Shuri said decisively. Standing up, she grinned at the couple. "I will return in ten weeks, and we shall see if they are ready. Alert me immediately if any of the alarms sound or the readings begin to deviate from expected." She pointed at Nyssa. "And if you still want to breastfeed, I recommend you start those injections now." Nyssa nodded acknowledgement. Shuri turned the viewscreen on and contemplated the projected image of the pair of fetuses floating peacefully in their amniotic fluid. Touching a button beside the screen, the image flickered slightly as it created a permanent record. "Send me images every now and then from the mainframe," she instructed. "I want to keep track of their progress. Daily would be optimal."

"Yes, ma'am," Bucky said with a two-fingered salute. Shuri grinned at him and exited the closet.

"Did you want to stay for dinner?" Nyssa invited. "We would hate for you to have traveled all this way just to leave so soon."

"Thank you for the offer," Shuri said sincerely. "But I am meeting my brother for dinner in Haiti. It is warmer there, anyway."

* * *

Bucky carefully traced an arc through the wood, then guided it through the circular saw. There were things he had wanted to get done before the babies came, and now he had dramatically less time to do them. Focusing on his craft helped to tamp down the feelings of frantic panic. He traced and cut, sanded and carved late into the night. He expected Nyssa to be asleep when he got back to their apartment, but she was still up. As he had so often since their conception, he found her in the closet beside the emulator.

"It's late," he noted. "We should be in bed."

"Yes, we should," Nyssa agreed. There was a catch in her voice, and tears still drying on her cheeks. "I tried to sleep. I can't get my brain to shut off. I keep thinking of everything that we still need to do. Like, babyproofing. We need a gun safe for your arsenal. We have no baby clothes, no toys, no changing table, no diapers. We haven't even started converting my office into a nursery yet. We haven't even discussed names!" He could feel her anxiety rising as she continued with her litany. Stepping closer, he leaned down and took her by the hand.

"We aren't going to get any of those things done at four in the morning," he reminded her. "Let's go to bed, and we can make a list tomorrow and start crossing things off of it." He pulled up gently, and Nyssa rose to her feet. She flopped down in their bed while he stripped down to his boxers, then climbed in beside her. She rolled over almost immediately, throwing an arm around his torso and nuzzling into the side of his neck. Her body was still, her eyes closed, but he could still feel the restless wanderings of her mind. Normally, he slept better with her at his side, but tonight their anxieties kept bouncing off each other.

"Want to talk about it?" he offered. She tilted her head up towards him and raised her eyebrows questioningly.

"Didn't I already?" she asked. He ran his fingers lightly up and down her upper arm.

"Obviously not," he pointed out, "since you still have something on your mind." With a sigh, she pressed her face back against his shoulder. He could feel her internal struggle, wanting to talk to him about it but hesitant, the ghosts of old insecurities nibbling at the edges of her usual confidence. "No secrets, my love," he prompted. She chuckled softly, the noise ending in a groan, and shifted so her head was pillowed on his chest, her ear pressed over his heart.

"I'm worried," she confessed. They were both worried, about many things, but it was evident she had a specific concern weighing on her mind. He waited. Nyssa took a deep breath. "Usually, a mother carries her children with her, within her, and they are never apart. The child grows within her body and her energy, grows attached to her, cradled in her love. I can't… couldn't do that. So we keep them stashed in the closet. I try to sit with them whenever I can, but I still leave. Every day. And a part of me wonders, what kind of mother does that make me? Will they even recognize me… as their mother?" The self-doubt and plaintive note of failure in her tone echoed the despair that coiled in her chest. Bucky exhaled sharply, brushing her hair gently back from her face as he searched his own heart for how best to answer.

"You may leave every day, but when you're here, I know they feel the love you have for them," he said reassuringly. "And I can tell you from personal experience, there is nothing deeper, softer or more comforting than your love. You made a choice to give them life the best way you could. The only way we could. Once they're here, I have no question that you will be an amazing mother. Or that they will know who you are." He paused, nothing the moisture on his chest, and gently wiped the tears from her cheek. "Mothers aren't always there from birth. Sometimes they are adopted, or surrogate, or honorary. The most important thing, the thing that makes a mother, is love. And that, you have in spades." Nyssa sniffled and drew in a shaky breath. Crawling on top of him, she rested her forearms on either side of his head and lightly touched her forehead to his.

"You are the sweetest man alive, you know that?" she whispered against his cheek.

"Well, don't let that get out," Bucky returned, his voice a low rumble. "It could do some serious damage to my reputation." She laughed, her breath warm against his ear.

"Heaven forbid the world discover that Bucky Barnes has a healthy, emotionally supportive relationship with his wife," she replied teasingly.

"If Sam finds out, he might be jealous," Bucky returned. She raised her head, and he found himself gazing directly into her hazel eyes. For all that he knew she couldn't see out of them, they still seemed to stare into his soul. There was a mischievous glint in them, and a suggestive smile on her lips.

"Do you need a reminder why you should be more concerned with my opinion than his?" she asked, her tone making it abundantly clear what she intended.

"Mmm. A reminder," he mused thoughtfully. "That might be helpful, yes. You know how my memory is." With a low chuckle, she lowered her mouth over his, first moving her lips gently against his, the went deeper as his lips parted in response. She kissed him leisurely and thoroughly, then more urgently, her mouth both requesting and promising, and he readily granted permission. Shifting, she nuzzled against his earlobe, then caught it between her teeth, giving it a little nibble. Bucky's breath hitched in his throat, and he squirmed slightly underneath her. Encouraged by his response, she lazily kissed her way from just under his ear down to the pulse point under the edge of his jaw, eliciting a low moan. She hummed in response and moved lower, kissing her way across his chest and down his abdomen, her lips and tongue igniting his skin exquisitely wherever they brushed against it. He skimmed his fingers along the soft curves of her slender body before cupping his hands around her ribcage, feeling her heart hammer and skip against his palms. He moved his hands to her shoulders as she moved lower, kissing fire across his hipbones and teasing the tender flesh of his inner thigh with soft, expert lips. Her hair brushed against his wrists, and he buried his fingers in her mahogany brown waves as she turned her attention to the most erect and aching part of him. As usual, he found himself beyond thought, awash in aching desire and pleasurable sensation under her skilled touch.

" _Avengers, assemble. Avengers, assemble."_ The familiar alert broke into his consciousness, and he swore.

"Fuck!" Nyssa exclaimed, her reaction an echo of his own. Unlike him, she rarely swore, but for some reason he found it to be very sexy when she did. It did not help to decrease his frustration with the situation.

"I don't think we'll have time for that," he groaned regretfully. Pulling away from her, he went to get dressed.

* * *

They joined the others in the conference room. Sam was yawning, but Steve and Natasha looked the same as they always did. So did Vision, as he technically did not need sleep. Thor was seated at the table, his arms folded over his broad chest. Bruce trailed in after Bucky and Nyssa, rubbing sleep from his eyes and trying to run a hand through his unruly hair. Clint and Scott drifted in a minute later, in varying states of alertness. Nick Fury was standing by the viewscreen with a vaguely impatient expression. Tony came in last, sitting down with an air of irritation. As soon as they were all there, Nick began.

"Avengers, we have a situation," Nick informed them. "We have been receiving reports of wildfires spreading along the western coast of Africa." He gestured towards the viewscreen, which immediately lit up with images of charred forests, burnt cities and ashen grasslands. "Liberia, Sierra Leone, Guinea, Guinea-Bissau, Senegal." As he listed the countries, new images of devastation flashed on the screen. "They spread fast and leave nothing behind. Over 50,000 dead and 20,000 injured reported so far, with thousands more still missing. Billions of dollars in damages. Now, normally these regions do see some fires each year, but these are massively widespread. Wildfires don't usually fall under our purview, so you might be wondering why I called you here at five AM to discuss them." He looked at the screen, and one of the images froze. "One of the locals managed to catch some images of what we believe may be the source of the fires." The image grew larger and the resolution adjusted to show a humanoid shape with flames leaping out from their charred, blackened body. Steve and Bucky exchanged a look, and Sam shook his head. "We need to get out there, find out who and what this is, and take care of this problem before they reduce the entire continent to ash." Bucky murmured something to Steve, who nodded and grimaced in response. Natasha whispered a reply in Russian. Bucky gave her a hard look.

"Is there something you would like to share with the rest of us?" Nick asked challengingly. Steve took a deep breath and nodded.

"Yes, sir. We know who that is," he admitted, nodding at the image on the screen. He shifted on his feet uncomfortably, glancing at the floor briefly before looking back up. "In fact, we may be indirectly responsible for this situation." Nick glared at them as if he wanted to bore a hole through them with his one remaining good eye.

* * *

 **Thanks to karina001 and DarylDixon'sLover for your reviews! I always appreciate feedback from the readers. In some cases, it can even affect the plot, characters, or general arc of the story. It also makes my heart happy!**


	22. Firestorm

**Disclaimer: Marvel Characters are property of Marvel. Original Characters are mine. Just for fun, not for profit.**

* * *

 **Firestorm**

Gretchen's expression in the viewscreen was grim. The Lichtenberg scars on her head stood out in pale relief against her tanned skin, and her pastel blue eyes seemed even lighter than Bucky remembered. He hadn't seen her since he had left _Sanctuary,_ but he still remembered the day they had rescued her from the site she had been held prisoner.

"We last saw Ignatius ten days ago," she confirmed unhappily. "I didn't realize he was doing damage on the continent, but unfortunately it doesn't surprise me. He hasn't been the same since Ember was killed in the battle against Thanos. He's been angry, irrational, erratic, setting dangerous fires. He was spending more time with Zora, but something went terribly wrong. We discovered her charred remains in his quarters, and he was nowhere to be found. We've been searching for him, but we had just reached Ascension Island. I'm sorry to hear he's been causing so much chaos elsewhere. Do you need any help from us in tracking him down?" Steve shook his head.

"Notify us if he comes back there, and try not to let him leave," he instructed. "Otherwise, we can take it from here." Gretchen nodded.

"Will do, Steve. Good luck. I hope you can find him… and stop him," she said sadly. The viewscreen went black. Steve turned towards Nick Fury, who was standing against the wall furthest from the screen.

"Thanks for letting me make that call," he said, gesturing with a sigh. "That confirms it is who we suspected."

"That's great," Nick replied sarcastically. "Now, does somebody want to explain to me who the hell that was, where the hell she is, and how the hell she is connected to our continental arsonist?"

"That was Gretchen," Steve explained. "She was elected mayor of Sanctuary after I stepped down and moved back here."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Nick Fury replied. "Let's back the mayoral truck up. Where is Sanctuary, and when were you elected Mayor of anywhere?" Steve shifted slightly, and Bucky could almost see him squirm. Really, it wasn't fair to let Steve take the heat when Sanctuary had been a group effort.

"Sanctuary is a floating city," he clarified, stepping away from the wall where he had been standing between Nyssa and Sam. "We built it after leaving Wakanda, before we were legally allowed to return to any of the Accord countries."

"You call it a city," Nick noted. "Who lived there? All of you?" He gestured to the room's occupants, the wave of his hand pointing out their small numbers. "More like a floating hamlet than a city."

"Us, yes," Natasha volunteered. "Also, people that we liberated from various Hydra testing sites. Most of them were held against their will for years, or even decades, and turned into whatever monster Hydra decided to make of them."

"How many?" Nick demanded. The attention in the room focused on Steve once again.

"624, according to our last census," he admitted.

"And they all have… superpowers?" Nick asked incredulously.

"To varying degrees," Steve acknowledged warily. Nick gestured at the now-dark screen.

"What can Gretchen do?" he asked.

"Gretchen… can channel and control electricity," Steve explained flatly. Nick Fury looked at him for a long moment. Then he clucked his tongue and paced across the room. He stopped and spun to face all of them.

"I cannot believe this," he declared, looking intently at each of them in turn. "You have all been holding out on me. A floating city with hundreds of superpowered beings?" He raised a hand and pointed at Steve. "You've established your own private army."

"No, sir," Steve denied. "The majority of Sanctuary's residents are civilians, non-combatants."

"Though they did come in handy in the battle against Thanos," Natasha mused out loud. Steve shot her an irritated look that told her she wasn't helping.

"But that was special circumstances," Bucky pointed out. "For the most part, they just want to be left alone to live their lives in peace." He couldn't blame them. He still looked back fondly on his days on Sanctuary. Nick folded his arms over his chest and scowled at them.

"Since you are already acquainted with the firestarter, hopefully this mission won't take too long," Nick mused out loud. "And when you get back, you can fill me in on everything you neglected to tell me about your floating city."

* * *

" ….slide the new nutrient tank in like this, and then you touch this button to cycle it through," Nyssa instructed. "With luck, we won't be gone that long, and you won't have to bother with it. They've been lasting about three and a half days. When the mix is getting low, this indicator light switches from green to yellow. If it turns red… well, Shuri made it pretty clear we should never let it turn red." She turned to face the person standing in the closet doorway. "Do you have any questions? Or is that clear enough?"

"I think I can handle it," Elijah replied, amusement and pride in his low rumble. "Though I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that you're going to be a mom."

"It still doesn't seem quite real yet," Nyssa agreed. "But I know they are going to have the best grandpa they could ever ask for."

"Awww, Ness…" Elijah pulled her into an affectionate hug. She could feel how moved and gratified he was by her statement. He was not a man who expressed such things easily, but he didn't need to. After a moment, he released her and held her at arms' length. "You aren't expecting me to feed the lizard, too, are you?" he asked cautiously. Nyssa laughed.

"No, Bucky has that taken care of," she assured him.

"Good," Elijah grunted. "Are you going to be back before Christmas?" he asked in concern.

"I certainly hope so," Nyssa replied. "That's ten days away."

"Well, stay safe," he admonished her. "And come back as soon as you can."

"You know I will," she returned with a soft smile. Picking up her suitcase from the floor beside the closet door, she kissed him softly on the cheek, then left.

* * *

The last known coordinates of the walking conflagration was several hours away, even in the Quinjet with all of its technological enhancements. Nyssa and Bucky took advantage of the travel time to catch up on the sleep they hadn't gotten the night before, snuggled together in their bunk. It was technically designed for a single occupant, but Nyssa didn't take up much space. Bucky awakened after about an hour and a half. Nyssa was still curled up soundly against his side. He was still tired, but his brain was switching over to mission mode, and he knew he wasn't going to be able to get restful sleep. Carefully extricating himself Nyssa's slumbering embrace, he tucked the blanket back in around her and slipped away.

In the command center, Clint was at the helm. Sam and Steve were seated at observation stations behind him. Bucky crossed the distance separating them noiselessly and lowered himself into an empty seat behind Sam. He looked out of the forward windows to see if he could pick up clues as to where they were, but the space beneath the plane was obscured by cloud cover. Through the occasional break in the clouds, he caught glimpses of shining blue ocean.

"Oh, hey, Sleeping Beauty," Steve said suddenly, as he noticed Bucky's presence.

"Hey, Steve," Bucky replied. In front of him, Sam startled and swiveled in his seat to see Bucky behind him. Bucky raised his eyebrows at him, amused that he had caught him off guard yet again. "Hi, Sam."

"If he's supposed to be Sleeping Beauty, he obviously needs to sleep a little longer," Sam observed, turning back to direct his comment at Steve.

"I could stand a few more hours," Bucky agreed. "Just don't think that's going to happen right now."

"Are you that worried about dealing with Ignatius?" Steve asked. "I'm hoping he's not too far gone to listen to reason."

"There's that," Bucky acknowledged. "Among other things. If you guys have other things to do, I can be Clint's backup." Sam considered his offer, stretched and yawned.

"I could go for a nap," he declared. "Or maybe some breakfast. Anybody else want breakfast?" Without waiting for a response, he got up and left. Steve watched him go, his expression thoughtful.

"Breakfast sounds good," he observed, then looked over at Bucky. "Want me to make sure he saves some for you?"

"Sure, Steve," he said softly. "Thanks." Steve nodded and left, leaving unasked questions hanging in the air between them. Bucky moved up to the co-pilot's seat and settled in. Silence filled the cockpit as he looked out the window at the clouds rolling underneath them.

"Contemplating your impending fatherhood?" Clint asked after a long moment. Bucky glanced sideways at him.

"Is it that obvious?" he asked dryly. Clint shrugged.

"Not really," he replied. "I just know that look. Kind of a cross between impatient excitement and 'holy shit, what am I getting myself into?'" Bucky chuckled softly.

"That about sums it up," he admitted. He poked at the touchscreen at the console, scanning the ground below them. "Were you nervous to become a father?"

"Nervous?" Clint repeated thoughtfully. He shook his head. "No, I wasn't nervous. I was terrified." Bucky glanced over at the other man in surprise. Clint normally seemed unflappable, even when they were facing the most fearsome opponents.

"Scared, Clint? You?" he repeated in disbelief. Clint shrugged.

"Death is easy. You're talking about being responsible for a life. It changes everything. When you're holding a tiny, innocent, vulnerable baby in your arms, and you realize every decision you make, every one of your habits, both good and bad, is going to impact them. Everything stops being about you, and starts being about them. And yeah, it was scary. My old man… he was an angry man, and he took all of his frustrations and shortcomings out on his kids. I had no idea how to be a father, except I didn't want to be that."

"You seem to have it figured out now," Bucky observed. "And your kids are fantastic." Clint grinned.

"Thanks," he replied proudly. "I think they are, too."

"So it must get easier, then," Bucky mused.

"In some ways," Clint agreed. "And in some ways, it gets harder. When they're little, hugs and band-aids are enough most of the time, and they still believe you're mostly infallible. Then they grow up, and they start asking hard questions, and you're not always able to explain why the world is so messed up, why people hurt each other. At some point, they realize you're just making it up as you go, and you don't have all of the answers after all." He tilted his head to the side. "There is good news, though." Bucky raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah? What's that?" he asked.

"You're not doing it alone. At a minimum, you have Nyssa. If you're smart and lucky, you'll have others that will help out, too. Laura and I didn't always have that."

"Help with the chaos?" Bucky said slyly, remembering Clint's previous quip. Clint nodded, chuckling softly.

"Exactly," he agreed. "It's the hardest thing I've ever done. They'll take everything you have, and everything you are, and break it down, empty it out. Then they give back so much more, and build you back up into something greater. You know, I thought, starting out, that it was my job to teach them everything. But they've taught me so much more. It's so worth it. Knowing they will be my legacy, rather than the death and destruction that comes with this job… it makes me feel better about how I will leave the world when my time comes. The rest of that stuff is just making sure the world is a little better, a little safer for them." Bucky nodded slowly, contemplating Clint' words.

"I hope I take to it like you did," he mused.

"Well, it's not like you have to be ready for it all at once," Clint reminded him. "You've got a few months to still get used to the idea."

"Not so much," Bucky contradicted him, shaking his head. "Apparently the serum accelerates their growth. Shuri thinks we have maybe ten weeks." Clint let out a low whistle.

"Well, that's a kick in the ass," he noted. Bucky nodded.

"I still have so much I want to get done before they're here," he said ruefully. "I know this mission's important, but I almost just want to go home and work on that instead."

"Yep, they do that," Clint noted. "They adjust your priorities, every time." An alarm began sounding on his console, and he frowned down at it. Bucky began scanning his own display. They were still at least an hour's flight away from their target coordinates.

"Something going on?" he asked. "We're not even close yet." Clint shook his head.

"No, but we're picking up another wildfire, so I'm adjusting course," he announced. "I don't think Ignatius is trying to be subtle."

* * *

Subtle was the last thing that popped into Bucky's mind as they touched down in a patch of smoldering forest. They had dropped flame retardant over a five-mile radius around the site, hoping to put a damper on his plans. They disembarked, scanning the smoke and debris, weapons at the ready. Nyssa gasped as she set foot in the scorched grass. Bucky looked over at her sharply.

"Are you picking up on something?" he asked softly.

"Rage. Grief. Despair," she replied. She bent to skim her hand over the blackened, ashen terrain. "This fire is borne of an anguish so intense, so all-consuming…" She straightened and gestured to the landscape around them. "Well, the results speak for themselves."

"Angry enough at the world to burn it all down, huh?" Natasha murmured, coming up behind them.

"Is he nearby?" Steve asked from off to Bucky's right. Nyssa closed her eyes, resting her hand on Darshan's back as he sniffed at the terrain.

"Three miles," Nyssa said meditatively, raising an arm to point north and slightly to the west. "That direction." Bucky nodded.

"Lead the way," he said simply. Nyssa breathed a near-inaudible command to Darshan, and they were off. Darshan loped away at top speed, but Nyssa kept up with him easily, their years of working together enabling them to cover the terrain at impressive speed. Bucky, Steve and Thor followed at a jog. Clint, Natasha, Bruce and Scott ran to keep up, while Vision, Tony and Sam opted to take to the sky to follow. They followed her through smoking underbrush, weaving between blackened skeletons of trees and under collapsed branches. Surviving animals scattered away from them as they disturbed their places of refuge. The ground underneath their feet was becoming rockier, and the incline increasing. Nyssa's pace finally slowed after two and a half miles, and she began ascending a rocky slope. The incline wasn't so steep that Darshan couldn't pick his way through it, but it did slow them down. She led them over a heap of stones that looked like they had been a rockslide, and up to a deep ravine. It was narrow enough for some of them to jump across. Vision, Sam and Tony carried the others to the opposite side. Nyssa took the lead again, finally stopping outside a cave entrance. She waited until the others had all caught up, one hand resting on the rocks outside the entrance, then gestured to the shadows beyond the opening.

"He's inside," she explained. "He's expecting us."

"How?" Steve asked, flabbergasted. Nobody else had known about their mission.

"He knew this would attract attention," Nyssa explained. "He didn't know when you would be coming, but he anticipated you would at some point. He wants you here."

"Why?" Tony asked. "Was this a trap? He wants to kill us, or have some kind of showdown?" Nyssa shrugged.

"It might come to that," she allowed. "He is hoping you will kill him. I anticipate he may try to force your hand." She turned towards Steve and Bucky. "Those he is most familiar with might have the best hope of saving him."

"And what about the rest of us?" Thor asked, sounding unhappy at the prospect of being left out of the action.

"Wait out here," Steve instructed. "Give us a chance to talk to him. Our best bet is to try to lure him out here, so it isn't such close quarters.

"Captain America and I will try to talk him down," Bucky declared. "If he comes after us, we'll make for the exit. Patchwork Doll, I want you to get as close as you can without him being aware of you, so you can warn us if he's about to do something rash. Iron Man, make sure you've got your fire retardant loaded and ready to go." Tony saluted, the gesture reading almost sarcastic coming from him. Bucky ignored his expression. "Once he is out of the cave, we need to focus on containment. The rest of you set up a perimeter. We can't let him get away, or he'll have half the country in flames again. Falcon, Iron Man and Vision, make sure he doesn't escape by flying. Black Widow, Hawkeye, Ant Man, set up a perimeter and fight him back into the clearing if you can. Bruce, we're gonna need the Hulk. He might be the only one who can go hand to hand without getting seriously burned. Thor…" He exchanged glances with Steve. "We need you to make it rain." Thor frowned, looking faintly insulted.

"Rain?" he repeated. "I am the God of Thunder, not…. Precipitation."

"Well, lightning isn't going to touch him," Steve explained grimly. "And he isn't likely to be scared by thunder. Everything needs to be soaked to slow him down, otherwise the landscape will work against us. Can you make it rain?"

"Do I look like Freyr to you?" Thor rumbled, looking somewhat grumpy.

"No," Bucky answered him. "Are you saying you can summon clouds, thunder and lightning, but not an actual storm?"

"No, of course not," Thor scoffed. "If it is rain you require, rain you shall have."

"Good." Steve looked around at the assembled team. "Try not to kill him if you can," he added. "Ember immolated when she died, and created a fireball that took out a quarter mile of combatants. In the close quarters like this, we won't make it out without casualties." Bucky and Steve exchanged a look and a nod, then ventured into the shadowy darkness of the cave.

Their enhanced senses served them well as they moved deeper into the darkness. There was very little light in the cave, but they could still make out the dim silhouettes of stalactites and stalagmites. Behind them, Bucky could sense Nyssa following a safe distance behind. When he turned to see her, his vision seemed to slide away without focusing on her, and he knew she was making herself less noticeable on purpose. They continued deeper into the cave. The stone around them began to widen into a cavern. After adjusting to the darkness, the glowing red embers deep within the hollow jumped to their attention as soon as they came into view. A pair of red glowing eyes glinted towards them.

"Ignatius!" Steve called. The eyes narrowed, and flames leapt up around the blackened figure standing on the other side of the cavern. The fire traced delicate figures against the cave wall, illuminating the fugitive in black relief.

"Rogers," he croaked, his voice a husky puff of smoke. "Took you long enough to show up. I only had to scorch half a continent."

"Ignatius, you didn't have to do this," Steve replied reprovingly. "If you needed help, Gretchen would have helped you figure out what you needed. I would have come back, if you had asked. All of this… devastation was completely unnecessary." Ignatius chuckled bitterly.

"Could you or Gretchen have brought her back?" he returned challengingly. "No, you couldn't. She's gone."

"Are you talking about Zora?" Bucky interjected, "or Ember?" Ignatius' face contorted.

"Zora was… an accident," he growled, anger, guilt, shame and grief warring for dominance of his face. "Lost in the heat of passion, and her physiology couldn't withstand mine. Without Ember, there is nobody for me. I cannot be with anyone else. I am too dangerous." He was pacing back and forth, flames leaping out of his body as he became more agitated, his footsteps flickering outlines in the cave stone.

 _He's telling the truth._ Nyssa's voice confirmed in Bucky's head. _Her death was not intentional._

"It's not too late," Steve coaxed, extending a hand towards him. "You can come with us now, and I promise I'll make sure you're treated fairly."

"Come back with you to what?" Ignatius snarled, stopping abruptly. "I can't go back to _Sanctuary._ I won't endanger anyone else there. Hand me over to the government? They'll either lock me up for life, or try to execute me. I say try, because this damned body won't quit. Believe me, I've tried. When you're built to withstand thousands of degrees, and your metabolism burns through any poison so fast that you're effectively immune…" He gestured helplessly, the tone of his voice changing from rage to despair. "You should have left me frozen in that tube." Steve let his hand drop, slowly.

"Let us help you," he said persuasively. Ignatius' charcoal expression shifted from heartbroken regret to resigned determination.

"Believe me, golden boy, you will," he declared. He spread his arms out to the side, flames leaping and growing, turning the cavern into a conflagration. Bucky instinctively ducked behind Steve, who crouched down and shielded both of them with his round vibranium shield. They slowly backed away, trying to reach the entrance before the fire overtook them. Flames licked around the edges, and the heat passed the threshold of Bucky's senses, registering only as pain save for his arm, which informed him the air around them had already skyrocketed to 200 degrees Celsius.

They dove backwards as they emerged from the cave entrance, Steve dodging to the right and Bucky to the left. Torrential rain poured down on them, and they were drenched almost immediately. Behind them, a plume of flame surged through the cave opening, bright yellow and white against the dark and stormy faux-night. Bucky turned his face away from the blaze, and noticed Nyssa flattened against the rock near him. Darshan was at her feet, head held low and ears flattened against his head.

Ignatius burst from the middle of the inferno, soaring into the sky. Falcon swooped down, turning his wings into a shield as he dove into Ignatius, knocking him down. Hulk stepped below the human meteor, balling up his massive green fists, and hit him back skywards. Ignatius flew back with the force of the blow, then soared back towards the big green rage monster. With a scream of inarticulate rage, he dove back towards the Hulk, only to be sent flying back. Iron Man soared through his trajectory, batting him back towards Hulk, who clouted him into a different direction. Vision intercepted him, using a beam of energy to return him to the Hulk. They volleyed him back and forth, again and again, in a twisted game of hot potato. The deluge from the sky soaked them all, turning the ground beneath their feet into mud and sludge. Despite the wet, steam was rising from the grass, and some of the low-hanging branches on the trees around the edges of the clearing carried persistent flames. Ignatius spread his arms wide, flames leaping meters out from his body as he soared higher, then dove back towards the Avengers gathered in the clearing, his humanoid body become a living comet.

A loud bang suddenly sounded over the roar of the fire and the rush of rain, and Bucky was splattered with a cool, wet, thick, sticky substance. He looked up to see Tony hovering in midair, his arc reactor shining on the fugitive like a spotlight. Ignatius was covered in the same thick, clear gel, his charred skin appearing wet and shiny.

"I hate to put a damper on things," Tony quipped, then paused. "Oh, wait, no I don't."

"Stark," Ignatius growled in recognition. Tony shrugged.

"Guilty as charged, but you're the one under arrest," he said. "That polymer compound will suppress flames up to 5000 degrees Rankine." He took a step forward, holding out a set of handcuffs.

"Oh, is that all?" Ignatius replied, darting backwards. Steam began rising from his body, and the barest hint of flames began licking at his fingertips. Tony loaded another anti-incendiary device, preparing to launch it at their opponent. Bucky tensed as he noticed Nyssa creeping around the edges of the clearing towards the formerly human fire demon. His attention kept sliding away from her, and he recognized that she was trying not to be noticed. It took a great effort to keep himself from jumping up to help her. Flames appeared around Ignatius' shoulders, licking their way down his arms. Nyssa sprinted forward and touched his back just as Tony fired the anti-firebomb. Ignatius collapsed to the ground, asleep. Nyssa coughed and gasped, wiping the thick flame-retardant polymer away from her mouth and nose. Natasha helped her to her feet.

"The cryochamber on the Quinjet might be the safest place to keep him," Nyssa noted out loud. "We should have at least a half-hour before he wakes up. We can decide what to do with him once we have him secured."

"On it," Tony declared. "Wilson, I'll need help prepping him." Scooping up Ignatius' still form, Tony took off skywards, with Sam following a moment later.

* * *

The others trudged back the way they came, hiking through the charred landscape created by the being they had just captured. Darshan paced by Nyssa's side, perfectly in heel position, but for once she wasn't touching him. She was holding her left hand cradled against her front, her fingers cupped over her palm without closing into a fist. Her toe caught on a blackened tree root, and she pitched forward, catching herself with her right hand. Darshan immediately froze and sat beside her, waiting for a command. Bucky stopped, offering a hand to help her up. She rocked awkwardly to her knees and reached up with her right hand. He steadied his hand, allowing her to pull herself back to her feet.

"Something wrong with your other hand?" he asked, forcing his tone to a lighter timbre than the concern he was feeling. Sheepishly, Nyssa opened her hand with an involuntary gasp, revealing red, angry, blistered skin.

"Ignatius was really heating up when I touched him. Does it look as bad as it feels?" she whispered.

"We've got to get that attended to," he replied, not answering her directly.

"I'll hit the first aid station and have Sam patch me up immediately after the debriefing," she promised. He didn't respond immediately, feeling his concern and dismay crest in a wave of anger. She squeezed his hand, and he knew she was aware of every emotion washing through him. "You know nobody else wants to run the debriefing if I'm not there. I don't need to use my hand for it, and it's important," she insisted. "But I promise you, I will take time off after this to rest and heal." Bucky made no effort to hide his skepticism.

"By taking time off, do you mean actually relaxing and taking a vacation?" he asked, "Or do you mean just dropping one or two of your many projects and just working as much as a normal person?"

"I will not go on any Avengers missions. I will refer out any Patchwork Doll investigations. I will keep appointments with established therapy clients, but not make any new ones. Otherwise, I will stay home, relax and heal. Is that acceptable?" she asked, an impudent smile flickering at the corners of her mouth. They both knew she wasn't asking permission.

"It will do," Bucky sighed. "Maybe one of these days we can actually take a trip together." She opened her mouth to protest and point out how much travel they had done. "A trip that doesn't involve any missions, fighting or investigations." She closed her mouth and glanced down at the ground.

"That would be nice," she admitted.

* * *

 **Thanks to karina001 and DarylDixon'sLover for your reviews and your loyalty. Much love!**


	23. A Cup of Christmas Cheer

**Disclaimer: Marvel Characters are property of Marvel. Original Characters are mine. Just for fun, not for profit.**

* * *

 **A Cup of Christmas Cheer**

Warm, supple lips brushed against Bucky's temple, then his jaw. Fingers traced up his arm and across his back with feather-soft touch. Warm breath tickled the edge of his ear and the nape of his neck. One slender arm curved over his side, trailing over his chest and skimming across his relaxed chest muscles. He felt her draw closer, her lithe, warm curves pressing against his back, her hips flush against his ass. He had awakened as soon as she stirred, but he was enjoying her touch and her attention, so he lay still, eyes closed, keeping his breathing deep and even.

"Merry Christmas, my love," she murmured in his ear, then nibbled on his earlobe. The hand that was wrapped around his chest skimmed down his abdomen, tracing a thrilling trail over his hip and down into his sensitive inner thigh. He felt lustful stirrings in his loins as other parts of him more obviously awakened. Abandoning the charade, he rolled onto his back and pulled her atop him, capturing her mouth with a predatory growl. He ran his hands down her back, gliding across the curve of her ass and pulling her against him more firmly. He still marveled at the quality of sensation his Wakandan-made left arm gave him. As he brushed it against her silky skin, it sent a thrill though him that added to the desire building within. Nyssa chuckled softly, her breath and lips grazing against his jaw. "Don't you want to see if Santa came?" she asked teasingly.

"Mmm. More interested in making sure you do," he replied, rolling so she was underneath him and descending down her body. Her laughter followed him, but soon turned into gasps and moans as he concentrated on all the ways he had learned to please her.

* * *

They arose from bed forty-five minutes later, sweaty and fragrant with their morning's activities. After a leisurely tandem shower that ended up going longer than originally intended, they made their way to the tree set up in the corner. Several packages of varying size were brightly wrapped in silver and gold and neatly arranged beneath the evergreen boughs. Bucky was surprised to see them. He had been up late finishing his preparations, and he was certain that those hadn't been there when he had gone to bed. Attracted to the shimmering wrapping paper, Balaur was perched atop one of the packages, tugging at the shimmering golden bow. Bucky snapped his fingers at him.

"Balaur, _oprește asta,"_ he commanded sternly, bumping the diminutive dragon's nose with a knuckle. Balaur snapped at Bucky's metal finger, but obediently clambered on his hand and up his arm to perch on his shoulder. "You can play with it later, I promise." The dragonette flapped his wings before settling down on Bucky's shoulder. Bucky glanced at him askance. "You're getting heavier. Might need to cut back on the meat treats, pal." He stepped closer to the tree and noticed a silver envelope edged in gold wedged carefully between branches. "Is this a gift for me hidden in the tree?" he asked.

"It's hidden because you are supposed to open that one last," Nyssa laughed from the couch, pulling her legs up underneath her robe. Darshan sat on the floor in front of where she sat. "Your sharp eyes are too good for me."

"I can open it last," Bucky said agreeably, setting it aside. He picked up a small box and brought it over to her, pressing it into her hands. "You can open this one first." With an anticipatory smile curving her lips, she carefully felt over the wrapping paper, her fingers searching for edges and tape. She slowly unwrapped the velvet box, her eyebrows raising in surprise. She opened the box and ran her fingers over the bracelet that was nestled inside. Four polished pieces of Wakandan Labradorite were set equidistant on the delicate silver chain, with accents of amethyst and moonstone.

"Another addition to the set?" Nyssa inquired. Their first Christmas together, he had given her earrings that matched her necklace, the first gift he had ever given her. She lifted it out of its case and ran it through her fingers. "Can you help me put it on?" Her left hand was still swathed in white bandages, the skin slowly healing from the second-degree burns she had sustained. He clasped the chain around her wrist. It rolled a few inches up her narrow forearm, but she pushed it back down. She inspected it in detail, rolling each stone between her fingers. The stones sent subtle flashes of color as she moved her wrist this way and that. Bucky smiled at the incongruity of her bathrobe with the fancy touches at her neck and wrist.

"Well, it looks like you like it," he observed. She smiled up at him.

"I love it," she corrected him. She gestured to the cluster of gifts still under the tree. "Now it's your turn." He selected the smaller of the packages and opened it, tearing the paper off quickly and efficiently. Crumpling the shiny paper into a ball, he tossed it into Balaur's habitat. The dragon spread his wings and soared across the room, pulling in his wings to dive through the opening of the enclosure and tackle the shiny bit of foil. Bucky half-smiled and returned his attention to the package he had just unwrapped. He raised his eyebrows at the image on the box.

"A… gramophone?" He asked incredulously. "I saw one of these, once, at school. Never had enough money for one of my own."

"The colloquial is record player, now," Nyssa replied with a teasing smile. "It's a Victrola, which is a name you might recognize. There's a little more to this one than the one your school had, though. The acoustics are better, and it also does AM, FM and universal radio, cassette tape, CD, USB and Bluetooth. It can also convert any type of music into digital files." Bucky's eyebrows rose nearly to his hairline. He opened the box and took out the handsomely carved wooden music player. He set it on the end table, admiring the look of it. He glanced back towards the gifts and noted that all the rest were flat squares.

"I bet I know what these are," he declared, picking up the entire pile at once.

"I bet you do," Nyssa agreed. He unwrapped them in rapid succession to find a variety of his favorite albums. A couple of them were from his youth, some were more modern ones that Nyssa had introduced him to, and a few were timeless classics. "You're lucky that vinyl has recently had a resurgence in popularity. Some of these just wouldn't have been released in that format, otherwise. Some of the vintage ones took some effort to track down, though." Bucky plugged in the record player and selected one of his new records. He set it on the turntable, moved the needle over and pressed play. The familiar strains of _Moonlight Serenade_ filled their apartment, bringing a nostalgic smile to Nyssa's face. He offered a hand to her, and she took it eagerly, letting him pull her to her feet. Her bandaged hand rested lightly on his shoulder while his fingers found their home at the small of her back. They danced slowly in their living room, bodies moving together in time to the music.

"You still have one gift left to open," Nyssa reminded him with a smile as he twirled her out and spun her back.

"You first," he returned. She gave him a surprised look. "You didn't think I only got you a bracelet for Christmas, did you?"

"There aren't any gifts left under the tree," she pointed out, running her bare feet over the empty carpet with a flourish and a turn.

"That's because they don't fit under the tree," Bucky informed her, taking her hand and leading her down the hallway to the room that used to be Nyssa's office. Darshan followed behind, always near his mistress unless she had commanded otherwise. Bucky guided her to the nearest object in the room and set her hand down on the wooden arch at the end of it. She traced the curve of the top with one hand, while her other hand explored the smooth slats supporting it. Her fingers searched the elegantly carved corner post, then found the railing of the side. She followed the slats down to a mattress and paused.

"A crib?" she guessed.

"One of them," Bucky confirmed. "The other one is over here." He walked with her for three strides to the identical crib on the other side of the room. He gave her time to explore this one as well before guiding her to the space between the cribs. "Then there's the rocking chair, here." She gasped as she ran her fingers over the intricate carvings at the top of the back of the chair and smiled as she traced the whorls on the outside of the armrests. "Then over here is the dresser. It has eight drawers, four for each of them, and I put some extra edging around the top so it can double as a changing table." He had immersed himself in details and requirements for modern-day baby furniture. While it was somewhat mind-boggling how things had changed from what he remembered, he was pleased with his work.

"Wait, you _made_ all of this?" she asked, her tone shocked.

"Well, yes," he replied, surprised by her surprise. "That is what I do, remember?"

"I do remember, but this level of skill and detail, just the sheer amount of work involved… It should have taken months, but we haven't had months. We've barely had weeks. I could have sworn you went to a high-end boutique shop."

"I will take that as a compliment," Bucky decided out loud.

"You should," Nyssa assured him. "It's amazing." She traced one of the elephants on the raised edging around the top of the dresser with a finger. "It does seem to make it seem a bit more real, doesn't it?" She glanced over at him with a raised eyebrow and a glint in her eye that made him forget she was blind. "Is there a reason you went with elephants?" He shrugged.

"It seemed like a good… symbol," he replied. "They're all about family. They're strong. Steady. And… they never forget." A tender smile curved her mouth, and she squeezed his hand affectionately. He cleared his throat, suddenly feeling more emotional than he expected. "Do you want to stay here and inspect them more? I can give you some time…."

"I'm sure I will be in here quite often in the next few weeks… months… years," she pointed out. "I definitely intend to explore them thoroughly. But in the meantime, you have another gift to open." She led him back down the hallway to the living room, where the silver envelope still lay on the end table. Bucky picked it up and slid his finger underneath the seal. Nyssa returned to her perch on the couch, and he felt her full attention on him as he slid the papers out from the envelope. At first, he was slightly confused. There were plane tickets, hotel reservations, and tour brochures. After a few moments, it clicked, and he raised his eyebrows at her.

"Are we going on a trip?" he asked. She nodded, grinning.

"They call it a babymoon," she mentioned, chuckling at the name. "A last chance to get away together before two becomes… more."

"And we're going to… the Grand Canyon?" he asked in amazement, noting the details on their reservations. "I've always wanted to see it. Somehow, with all my other travels, I've never managed."

"I know," Nyssa said with a grin. "I'm so excited to go there with you."

"Wait a minute," Bucky said, examining the tickets more closely. "Nyssa, these flights are leaving tomorrow morning."

"Yes," she confirmed. "I know your schedule is reasonably clear. With all the surprises we've already had, I didn't want to waste any more time."

"But isn't everyone coming over for dinner tonight?" he reminded her.

"We have a few hours before that," she reasoned. "We can pack while the ham is cooking. It's only for five days, so one suitcase each should be enough. I'm about halfway packed already." She leaned towards him conspiratorially. "You know, I feel even better about going on this trip now that the nursery is basically done." He shook his head at her. His initial alarm at the short timetable was giving way to excitement. He was used to flying off to all corners of the earth on short notice, after all. Granted, it might seem a little odd to have fun things to do once they got there rather than missions, but he was certain he could adjust.

* * *

The day had started out at a leisurely pace, but that changed. The first hour was spent in the kitchen, preparing the dishes for the night's dinner. Once the ham was baking in the oven, with the side dishes in the wings awaiting their turn to bake, they shifted to packing. For missions, Bucky could pack a bag in under ten minutes, but a vacation seemed to be an entirely different consideration. Every time he thought he had everything packed, he would think of something else, or Nyssa would make a suggestion, and he would add more. Nyssa selected her clothes mostly by feel, but Bucky was amazed at how much she could fit into her small suitcase, even hindered by her injury. She finished before he did and set her luggage next to the bedroom door, then returned to the kitchen to finish meal preparations. Bucky finally decided that if he forgot anything, he would just have to do without it. Joining Nyssa in the kitchen, he grabbed a stack of plates and began setting the table. She was gingerly slicing vegetables next to a large salad bowl. The timer on the oven began going off.

"Bucky, do you mind getting the ham out and putting the potatoes and the veggies in?" Nyssa asked. "Every time I try to reach into that oven, my hand is convinced it's getting burned all over again."

"Sure, Doll," he replied, moving to the oven. He was startled by a knock on the door and glanced at the clock. They still had an hour before they expected anyone to show up. He looked questioningly over at Nyssa, who was setting her knife down, her face brightening.

"Steve and Sera are here early," she observed to Bucky as she crossed to answer the door. "Merry Christmas!" she greeted their guests.

"Merry Christmas," Steve responded. Sera pulled Nyssa into a hug.

"I know we're early," she said unapologetically. "I wanted to get here early enough to help if you needed it. I know you're a hand short."

"Still have three good ones between us," Bucky called from the kitchen as he overheard her. "Not the first time. We managed."

"Hey, Jimmy. Merry Christmas!" Seraphina called back.

"Merry Christmas, Phina," Bucky replied without rancor. Knowing the story behind it, he didn't mind that she called him Jimmy, though he wouldn't want anyone else using the nickname. That didn't mean he couldn't hassle her back. She made a face at him as she hefted a laundry basket full of packages.

"Where should I put the gifts?" she asked. Bucky raised his eyebrows at the pile.

"Under the tree, I suppose," he said, gesturing in that direction.

"Let me help with those," Steve offered, setting a hand on the basket. Sera twisted away slightly.

"I've got it," she assured him. "You can see if Bucky needs a hand." Steve glanced over at his friend.

"No, it looks like he still has two," he deadpanned. Bucky rolled his eyes.

"Wiseass punk," he grumbled. Steve grinned. Bucky moved over to the counter and turned a round baking pan over onto a decorative plate, leaving a bare cake round on the platter. He handed Steve a spatula and a jar of cream cheese frosting. "Let's see what you remember about decorating cakes."

* * *

Seraphina followed Nyssa enthusiastically, nearly dancing down the hallway as she picked up on her best friend's excitement. Nyssa led her into the nursery, and Seraphina gasped.

"Oh, these are beautiful!" she breathed, moving to inspect each piece of furniture. "I love the two little baby elephants following their mom." She traced the carved lines on the back of the rocking chair. "Where did he find these?"

"He made them," Nyssa said softly, grinning with pride.

"Really? Holy shit!" Sera breathed, examining the dresser with even more admiration. "Plus, he cooks? I think you've got a winner, Nyss."

"Oh, I know I do," Nyssa replied. She eased herself down into the rocking chair and began rocking experimentally. "Though you're not doing too bad yourself, are you?" Seraphina grinned and leaned against one of the cribs.

"I'd say I'm pretty happy with where things are at with Steve right now," she agreed, her grin softening into a more sentimental smile.

"I'm glad," Nyssa responded. "I know you were worried since you typically go for guys with a little more experience." Sera chuckled.

"I may have been wrong there," she admitted. "He's teachable, and he listens. Which, as it turns out, is way better than a guy who thinks he already knows it all and believes he's God's gift to women." Nyssa smirked at her friend.

"Well, I could have told you that," she noted dryly. Seraphina made a face at her.

"He can be really sweet, too," she continued, choosing not to acknowledge Nyssa's comment further. "He never comes over empty-handed, and he's always polite. And he'll listen to me vent about shit at work and random bullshit for hours, even though I know he hasn't got a clue what I'm talking about." Nyssa raised her eyebrows at her friend.

"Sounds kinda like husband material to me," Nyssa observed cheekily. Sera laughed.

"Maybe, if I were in the market for that," she mused. "I don't know about that whole domestic bliss thing. I like being able to take off for the weekend without warning, or stay at the office until midnight without anyone questioning what I'm doing. All of this…" She waved a hand vaguely at the nursery, with a slight shake of her head. "It suits you, and you seem happy with it, but it's nothing I've dreamed of." She shrugged. "Of course, at the rate he moves, I probably have at least a couple more years before I have to worry about having that conversation."

* * *

"So, things seem to going well with you and Seraphina," Bucky observed as he began carving the ham into slices. Steve glanced up from frosting the apple cake, a distinct pink tinge appearing on his cheeks.

"Yeah," he agreed. "She's… really something."

"Something good, I hope," Bucky commented, pausing in his slicing. Steve nodded.

"Something amazing," Steve corrected. "I just…." He paused and looked back down at the cake, his spatula tracing random patterns through the frosting. "You know, I thought after getting a couple relationships under my belt, I'd have it figured out, but it still seems so… complicated. Plus, things are so different now. She works more than I do, and I think she makes more money. And I don't think she's looking for something… traditional."

"Is that what you want?" Bucky asked. "Something traditional?" Steve shrugged.

"I haven't been sure about what I want since I woke up in this century," he sighed. "I don't know where things are going, or where I want them to go. I don't know if this is something permanent, or just something nice for right now. All I know is, when I'm with her, I stop missing everything that I left behind. I forget that the world has changed, and things aren't what I wish they could be. It's just the two of us, and that's all that matters. And when I'm not with her, I think about her." He shook his head and shrugged slightly. "I don't know what that means." Bucky raised his eyebrows at his oldest friend.

"It sounds like you're… happy," he observed. It sounded like something else to him, but he knew Steve well enough to recognize that he would have to come to that realization on his own. "If it's working for you right now, why question it? The world has changed. Not everyone has to get married anymore. You could just leave things as they are, keep dating, or…shack up together…" Bucky chuckled at the insulted look Steve shot him. "What? You can't tell me you guys haven't made it into the bedroom. I'm sure she's a firecracker." Steve's expression shifted from shocked to scandalized, while the pink on his cheeks deepened to red and spread out to the tips of his ears. Before he could reply, a knock on the door interrupted their conversation. Bucky opened the door. Elijah smiled at his honorary son-in-law, arms full of gifts.

"Bucky!" he greeted him warmly, shifting the brightly-wrapped packages to one arm to awkwardly embrace him with the other. "Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas, Elijah," Bucky replied, stepping back and gesturing for Elijah to come in. "Glad you could make it." He glanced over at Steve, but his friend had returned his attention to the cake, his spatula smoothing out the frosting slowly and methodically. He didn't look over at Bucky, but the wrinkle between his eyebrows told Bucky he was preoccupied about more than cake.

* * *

 **Thanks to karina001, Qweb and DarylDixon'sLover for your reviews! Hope you enjoyed this holiday installment.**


	24. Babymoon

**Disclaimer: Marvel Characters are property of Marvel. Original Characters are mine. Just for fun, not for profit.**

* * *

 **Babymoon**

The next morning started early and alternated between frenzied activity and long periods of waiting. Balaur's habitat was locked to keep him out of trouble, but he was happy enough with his mound of sparkly wrapping paper and ribbons to keep him occupied. Bucky also left a whole thawed chicken and some of the leftover ham in the habitat. The dragonette would likely gorge himself on the meat and then sleep for a week. They collected their bags, prepared Darshan for the flight, and then were off to the airport.

Nyssa traveled enough with her seeing-eye dog that most of the airport staff were familiar with them, so they typically didn't hassle her too much anymore. Bucky was recognized and waved through even after his arm set off their metal detector. Bucky looked out the window as the plane took off, and noticed that it was starting to snow. He glanced over at Nyssa, who was armed with dark sunglasses and earbuds. It wasn't that she hated flying, but being forced to be in such close quarters with so many people did put a strain on her. He put his hand lightly next to hers, and she immediately laced her fingers through his. Focusing on his presence helped to drown out the nearly 200 strangers surrounding them. It was also helpful that they could afford to fly first class. She grinned over at him. Darshan sighed from his spot curled up beneath Nyssa's seat, his head resting between her ankles.

"Excited?" she asked. He tightened his hand around hers.

"I'm just looking forward to spending time with you, with no distractions," he replied.

"I don't know, I've heard the Grand Canyon can be pretty distracting," she countered. Bucky's lips quirked into a half-smirk.

"I'm sure it will enhance whatever other activities we engage in," he mused out loud. Nyssa's quiet chuckle told him she understood exactly what he was implying. Settling back in her seat, she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to release some of the tension from her shoulders. Bucky signaled the flight attendant pushing the liquor cart, who brought him another whiskey neat. He sipped his cocktail, music playing in one ear from his own ear buds, and leaned back in his seat. He was definitely looking forward to this vacation.

* * *

When the plane touched down five hours later, the sun was shining. A thin layer of snow dusted the ground, a far cry from the several feet of snow they had left behind them in New York. The drive to their destination was not as crowded as he expected; this was the off season for tourists. They arrived at the lodge just before lunch. The woman behind the counter looked up, and her face brightened when she saw them.

"Dr. Taylor, it's good to see you!" she declared with a smile. Then her expression became worried. "Did the rangers ask you here? Is someone missing?" Nyssa smiled and shook her head.

"No, Ramona, I'm just on vacation this time," she said reassuringly. She rested her hand on Bucky's arm. "This is my husband, Bucky Barnes." Bucky nodded in greeting and extended a hand towards the woman.

"Oh! Oh, my," Ramona exclaimed, her cheeks turning pink as Bucky clasped her hand. "I must have missed that news. Are you here on your honeymoon?" Bucky shook his head slightly.

"No, just a vacation," Nyssa said quickly. The entire world didn't need to know about their impending parenthood.

"All right." Ramona almost sounded disappointed. She slid a pair of room keys across the desk to them. "You'll be in room 276."

"Thank you," Bucky said, grabbing the keys.

"Enjoy your stay!" Ramona said cheerfully.

"You've been here before, I see," Bucky observed once they were out of earshot. Nyssa grinned sheepishly.

"I've helped them find a few lost tourists over the years," she admitted. "Sadly, I only made it here after my vision changed. I'm excited to see it through your eyes." For most people, that was just an expression. For Nyssa, it was a bit more literal.

"I'm looking forward to sharing it with you," he replied, squeezing her hand.

* * *

They spent that first afternoon doing tourist things, traveling to and exploring the Grand Canyon Village and the Grand Canyon Railway Depot. Bucky found a cowboy hat he liked in the gift shop. At the Hopi House, Nyssa added a coffee mug to her collection. They ate dinner in one of the restaurants in the village, then watched the sun set over the Grand Canyon at Yavapai Point before returning to their room. Nyssa filled their room's whirlpool tub with hot water, and they both relaxed after the day's activities.

"Warm up while you can," Nyssa warned him playfully. "Tomorrow night, we'll be under the stars."

"I'm not too worried," Bucky replied dryly. While he wasn't particularly fond of the cold, it took a lot for it to bother him. "Are you going to be okay when it drops twenty degrees at night?"

"This isn't my first time backpacking through the Grand Canyon," she reminded him. "And the last few times, I didn't have you to help keep me warm." She grinned and moved closer, her wet skin warm and slippery in the water. Twining her arms around his neck, she pressed against him and kissed him leisurely. His arms encircled her hips, pulling her closer and keeping her from slipping away.

* * *

They arose early and went downstairs for breakfast. The sun was not yet up, and neither were most of the other tourists in the lodge. Nyssa helped herself to the coffee while Bucky raided the tray of fresh pastries.

"Do you want a Danish or a doughnut?" he asked, bringing over a plate with varieties of both. "They don't have pancakes, unfortunately." Nyssa tilted her head to the side, her expression indicating she wasn't thrilled with either option.

"Danish," she decided. "Do they have oatmeal this morning? I find that sticks with me longer."

"Uh, yeah. I thought I saw some." Leaving his pastries on the table, Bucky went over and filled a bowl with the lumpy goop, wrinkling his nose slightly. It reminded him of childhood meals growing up during the Great Depression, though the brown sugar and raisins they offered to mix with it had rarely been available. Bucky added both liberally to the bowl and brought it back to his wife.

"Getting an early start, eh?" Bucky turned to see that they were no longer alone in the dining room. Another couple was availing themselves of the complimentary breakfast. He nodded.

"Why waste the day inside when the Grand Canyon awaits?" he queried easily.

"See, that's what I thought," one of the newcomers stated, looking pointedly at his companion. "Todd here would prefer to sleep until noon." Todd rolled his eyes.

"We are supposed to be on our honeymoon, Brian," he grumbled in reply. "Who doesn't want to stay in bed until noon on their honeymoon?"

"If we stay in bed until noon, we won't make it to the North Rim before we have to turn around and go back," Brian pointed out, taking a sip of coffee. "We can spend plenty of time under the stars doing whatever you want."

"The North Rim, huh?" Nyssa interjected. "Isn't that a bit risky this time of year?"

"How so?" Todd asked warily.

"The North Rim is closed in the winter," she explained. "You can technically still hike there, but there are no services, and the roads are closed, so no vehicles around." Todd turned and gave Brian a significant look.

"Are you trying to get me killed, _honey?_ " he asked, his tone sweet but underlined with tension.

"Of course not," Brian said reassuringly. "The weather forecast looks good for the next couple days. I've done this trek a hundred times before. I know what I'm doing. Don't worry, I'll keep you safe." He finished going through the food selections and handed Todd a plate of pastries. "First rule of backpacking through the Grand Canyon is, load up on the carbs." Todd gave him a long-suffering look.

"Are you serious?" he asked skeptically.

"I never joke about doughnuts. Doughnuts are serious business," Brian replied, deadpan. Todd shook his head and chuckled, indicating his surrender with a large bite out of a doughnut. Brian reached over and patted Todd on the shoulder. "Don't worry, you'll work every one of those calories off out there."

"Should I be reassured or insulted by that?" Todd mused.

"Whichever one hurts your feelings less," Brian suggested. "Because that's how I meant it." Todd's expression softened, and he smiled at Brian. Nyssa got up and helped herself to some more coffee, then touched Bucky on the shoulder.

"We should be getting back," she said softly. "I still have to finish loading up my pack." She turned towards Brian and Todd. "Good luck on the trail, guys." Bucky nodded and stood, swiping one more sweet roll for the trip back up to their room.

"Were we like that on our honeymoon?" he asked Nyssa once they were out of earshot. She grinned.

"As I recall, we didn't leave the cabin much on our honeymoon," she answered slyly.

* * *

An hour later, they were finally out on the trail, making their way down the Bright Angel Trail, backpacks bulging full of supplies. Bucky carried the bulk of it, but Nyssa's pack was the maximum recommended weight for her size, and even Darshan had a pack harness on with food, water, waste bags and a first aid kit. Bucky let Nyssa and Darshan lead the way and set the pace. None of them were in a hurry as they slowly wound their way down the side of the canyon, the scenery around them breathtaking. Bucky would pause every now and then to drink it in, or grab Nyssa's hand so she could see a particularly breathtaking view. Nyssa would stop to point out a pair of bighorn sheep balancing on the rock face, a mountain lion peeking over a crevice, a hawk or falcon flying overhead, and other glimpses of local wildlife that Bucky probably would have missed otherwise. The hike was taxing, even at their relatively leisurely pace, and they paused often to rest, as the visitor's center had recommended.

"How about Winnifred?" Bucky asked from his seat on the ground, leaning back against a rock and taking a swig of water from his flask. Nyssa frowned slightly as she slowly poured water from her flask into her palm, letting Darshan lap it up.

"I'll be honest," she admitted. "I know it was your mother's name, but it's not a favorite of mine. It could work as a middle name, though."

"Sounds like you already have favorite names picked out," Bucky observed. Nyssa grinned.

"I have a top eight," she admitted. "I'm kind of surprised you don't." Bucky shrugged.

"I have more strong feelings about what names we shouldn't use," he declared. Nyssa laughed.

"Yeah? Like what?" she asked.

"Like Buchanan. Let's not name any kids Buchanan," he replied. Nyssa smirked at him.

"I can agree to that," she promised easily.

"So let's hear your top eight," Bucky challenged her. Nyssa took a deep breath.

"Okay. In no particular order. Ethan." She paused, waiting for Bucky's response. He didn't have particularly strong feelings about the name one way or the other. When he didn't respond, she continued. "Briar." Bucky frowned, considering it.

"Would that be for a boy or a girl?" he queried. Nyssa shrugged.

"Could be either," she said. "Um, Aria."

"Umaria?" Bucky repeated. "I haven't heard that one before. Kind of pretty, though." Nyssa snorted and shook her head.

"No, no. Aria. No 'Um.'" She tilted her head to the side. "Though, that isn't half bad, either."

"Aria is pretty," Bucky observed. "What's next?"

"Quinn," came the reply. Bucky raised an eyebrow.

"Not terrible," he declared.

"I think it's lovely," Nyssa said defensively.

"I'll have to think about it. I heard somewhere you have to be comfortable yelling the name out loud in public for it to be a good name," he quipped. "I'll have to try it out."

"You could try them all out," Nyssa suggested. Bucky chuckled and took another swig of water.

"That was four," he observed. "You said you had eight." Nyssa nodded earnestly.

"Justice," she listed, holding up another finger. Bucky snorted.

"It's a decent name," he allowed, "and a great virtue. But it could backfire. With a name like that, they might end up going supervillain on us." Nyssa made a face at him.

"That has the potential to happen no matter what we name them," she reminded him. "We just have to trust that if we raise then with honesty, respect, empathy and compassion, it will not lead them astray."

"I suppose that's true," Bucky said, lapsing into silence as he contemplated what his mother would have thought if she knew what had become of him and what he had done. She had raised him well, taught him to be honest and respectful, but he had still done terrible things.

"Zephyr," Nyssa continued, derailing his train of thought. Bucky raised his eyebrows with a quiet snort of laughter.

"For a baby?" he asked incredulously. "I could see that being a name for a dog, but not a human child." Nyssa grinned, not seeming insulted by his reaction.

"Maybe I will," she mused. Unwrapping a granola bar, she took a bite contemplatively.

"Two left," Bucky noted. Nyssa nodded and swallowed her mouthful.

"Brooklyn," she replied. Bucky let out a puff of laughter.

"Is that a name for a person?" he asked. "That's a borough. Why not Bronx, or Manhattan?" Nyssa smirked at him.

"Bronx could work," she conceded. "Manhattan might be a stretch, unless they earn a doctorate. But I wasn't under the impression that either of those boroughs held a special place in your heart like Brooklyn does. Did."

"Yeah, but not today's Brooklyn," Bucky noted regretfully. "Everything is so different now. It's not my Brooklyn."

"If we used the name, you would have a Brooklyn of your own again," Nyssa pointed out slyly. Bucky considered that pensively, for a moment feeling nostalgic for his boyhood home.

"I suppose that's true, in a way," he reflected thoughtfully. There was a long pause, while a canyon wren's song drifted by them on the breeze.

"The last name on my list is Jameson," Nyssa concluded. Bucky frowned slightly, recognizing the name.

"Isn't that a brand of whiskey?" he recalled. Nyssa grinned.

"Yes, but that isn't why I like it," she replied, her mouth curving into a sentimental smile. "I rather liked the original meaning of it. You know, the whole 'son of James' part." Bucky's heart made a strange flutter in his chest at the thought. It caught him by surprise. Getting to his feet, he extended a hand to help Nyssa up.

"We don't have to make any decisions about it today," he decided. "But we should keep going if we want to reach the campground by nightfall."

* * *

As they descended further, they grew warmer. Bucky began removing layers on their rest stops; sometimes an outer layer and sometimes an inner layer that he had sweat through. Even Nyssa was down to a single shirt with long sleeves by the time they stopped for lunch. They found a rock large and flat enough for the three of them to sit comfortably.

"Do you think we should raise them bilingual?" Nyssa asked, settling back against Bucky's shoulder and munching on some trail mix.

"Bilingual?" Bucky repeated. Nyssa nodded.

"Usually, the way they recommend is for one parent to speak one language with them, and the other parent speak the other," she elaborated. "Between us, we speak so many languages, it doesn't seem fair to start them out with only one."

"If they have your knack for picking up languages, that might not be an issue," Bucky pointed out.

"That's still an 'if,'" Nyssa replied. "They might not."

"What languages would you want them to know?" Bucky queried. He might have to brush up on some of his secondary languages.

"English and Spanish might be useful no matter where they go," Nyssa mused. "Russian might be helpful, too. But there are so many languages spoken in the city that just about anything could work."

"Russian is a little harsh for lullabies," Bucky noted. "It's not a very… soothing language."

"Neither are their lullabies, have you heard them?" Nyssa retorted with a chuckle.

"Maybe we could both speak English and one other language with them," he suggested. "Then they'd have three to start out with."

"That's not a bad idea," Nyssa said thoughtfully. She took a drink of water from her flask, contemplating which languages from her repertoire she would want to use.

"You know, I was on one of those parenting sites the other day," Bucky mentioned. "Apparently, some people don't think babies should be vaccinated?" He was still both perplexed and slightly angry about it. Nyssa sighed.

"I did warn you about some of those sites," she noted.

"I just don't get it," he said. "They're talking like the diseases aren't really that bad, but I lost friends, and friends lost siblings, and some of the kids that lived were changed, I think permanently. I don't understand why any parent wouldn't want to spare their child that if they can."

"Memories are short," Nyssa said with a slight shake of her head. "Most parents today never saw the worst of those effects. There's a lot of misinformation out there. But don't worry, we're vaccinating." She sat forward and gestured to a tree further down the trail. "There's a ringtail hanging out in that tree, if you can see it. It will probably run off as soon as we get closer." Bucky strained to see what she was referring to, but only caught a glimpse of a black and white striped tail.

* * *

After lunch, they continued on their way. The scenery around them was awe-inspiring, and more than once Bucky stopped to catch his breath not because the hiking was so strenuous, but because the view had simply taken his breath away. Nyssa was sure-footed and nimble on the trail ahead of him, her canine companion pacing by her side. Sometimes she would pause and look back at him with a smile, and the sight rivaled the stunning views around them.

They reached their campsite just before sunset and paused in setting up the tent to watch the sky turn colors. They ate dinner and made love under the stars as night set in. Then they retreated to their tent and snuggled together in their double sleeping bag. With the sun gone, the canyon was cooling quickly, and there was a definite chill in the air. Darshan curled up at the end of their sleeping bag, out of the elements in the tent with them. Nyssa nestled against Bucky's side to share his warmth before falling happily asleep.

She awakened some time later by Darshan whining in her ear and licking her face. The wetness of his tongue immediately turned frigid. Nyssa sat up, noting how the wind was howling. The canvas walls of their tent were shaking with the icy gusts from outside. She could feel the vibration even through the floor of the tent.

"Bucky," she whispered, brushing a kiss on the edge of his jaw. "Wake up, I think it's storming outside." He roused quickly and moved to the door. Nyssa heard the zipper, then Bucky's soft swearing. "How bad is it?" she asked.

"There's already a couple inches of snow on the ground," Bucky grumbled, sliding back into the sleeping bag beside her. "We're safer in here than out there. Best to wait it out and see how bad it is in the morning." Nyssa immediately burrowed back into his warmth.

"Okay," she breathed, a worried pucker between her eyebrows. "Fingers crossed the tent holds."

* * *

 **Thanks to karina001, Qweb and DarylDixon'sLover for your loyalty and your reviews! Hope you enjoyed this chapter.**

 **Anyone have thoughts about the names they are considering? What do you think they should name the babies?**


	25. Blizzards and Blackouts

**Disclaimer: Marvel Characters are property of Marvel. Original Characters are mine. Just for fun, not for profit.**

* * *

 **Blizzards and Blackouts**

The howling winds made it a little more difficult to go back to sleep, but the contrast between the cold air around them and the cozy warmth of the sleeping bag and Nyssa curled up against him was surprisingly alluring. Bucky awakened some time later. He exhaled, and his breath puffed out in white wisps before his eyes. Darshan was awake and watching him, still lying on the other side of Nyssa, his head resting on her side, rising and falling slowly with her deep, even breaths. Bucky sat up and noticed that the sides of the tent were much lower than he recalled them being when they went to bed. The canvas creaked ominously. He punched upwards and was rewarded by the sound of sliding and scraping down the side of the tent. Carefully sliding out of the sleeping bag so as not to wake Nyssa, he grabbed his clothes and pulled on enough for protection from the weather, then went outside to investigate.

As he unzipped the tent door, snow trickled in the bottom. He stepped out into blinding whiteness. A chill wind pushed at his hair, icy daggers cutting through his shirt and causing an involuntary shiver. Even with hiking boots on, the snow nearly reached his calves. The golds and greens and browns of yesterday were muted with a layer of frost and snow. A mound of snow was heaped around the base of the tent where Bucky had knocked it down. The trail they had taken here was now obscured, flat whiteness blending the trail in with the surrounding terrain and hiding the areas of treacherous footing that had been obvious yesterday.

Hot water would be necessary today. Setting up the propane camp stove he had brought in his pack, he oriented it so the burners were sheltered from the wind as much as possible, and put a pot of water on to boil. By the time the water began to boil, Nyssa emerged from the tent, bundled in several layers of warm clothing, including hat and gloves.

"You'll have to settle for instant coffee this morning," he informed her, pouring some of the boiling water into a thermos for her. He made sure the top was on tight, then placed the insulated mug into her fingers.

"It's hot and caffeinated," she noted. "That's all I need." Blowing on the coffee pooling around the mouthpiece, she took an experimental sip and moaned appreciatively. "Have I told you lately that you're amazing?"

"Not yet today," he replied with a smirk. She smiled beatifically at him.

"You're amazing," she sighed. He grinned at her.

"There is also oatmeal for breakfast," he announced, stirring more of the hot water into some of the instant oatmeal they had brought with them."

"Perfect," she declared.

"Me, or breakfast?" he asked teasingly.

"Yes," she responded, grinning. She whistled at Darshan, who immediately came to heel. They walked a short distance away from camp to take care of morning business. Even with no harness on, he was attentive to his mistress, never straying far from her side. They ate breakfast and broke camp, packing out everything they brought in with them. Even with a coating of snow, Darshan was able to find the trail, picking up on the scents of the many travelers who had traversed it before. Between the snow, the aggressive wind and the frigid temperatures, ice had started to form on many parts of the trail. Where yesterday had been mostly downhill, today was climbing back up out of the canyon. The going was slow and strenuous. Even Bucky was feeling the strain. Nyssa stopped to tie cloth around Darshan's paws to protect them from the cold and the terrain. Where she had led yesterday, today she was having more difficulty keeping up. As they ascended higher on the canyon wall, the wind grew fiercer, blowing through even their thick clothing, clawing at exposed skin with sharp, icy claws.

* * *

They stopped for a longer break to have lunch, breaking out the camp stove again to heat up soup and change the inner layers of clothing saturated with sweat for dry ones. The sky was still overcast, but the air had shifted from mind-numbing cold to simply bitter chill. After they were rested, they set out once again. They hadn't gone very far when it began snowing again. It started as a few flurries, but soon the snow was falling so thick and fast that the air around them was thick with white. Bucky could barely see more than two feet in front of him. Nyssa took the lead again, finding the path that was nearly invisible beneath the swirling snow. The wind howled piercingly, drowning out attempts at conversation. Bucky had no way to gauge their progress, but it seemed slow. He could feel himself getting tired. Taking a long stride to catch up to Nyssa, he touched her shoulder.

 _We should stop and rest,_ he thought pointedly at her. She shook her head slightly and didn't pause in her stride.

 _If I stop moving, I'll get colder. If I get colder, I'm not sure I'm going to be able to get moving again._ Her reply was tinged with both desperation and resignation, and he felt for a brief moment what she was feeling: bone-numbing chill, dull all-over aches highlighted by throbbing pain in her leg and hand.

 _We could set up camp and wait until it blows over,_ he suggested.

 _I just want to get back and thaw out in the hot tub,_ came the irritated reply. Bucky paused, but she didn't stop, wading determinedly through snow that was beginning to drift up over her knees. He caught up and followed more closely, sensing that something wasn't right. He followed for another ten minutes and started to notice that Nyssa's gait was growing more erratic, sometimes stumbling to the side for a step or two before moving forward again. She dropped the lead to Darshan's harness, paused to pick it back up, missed and pitched forward face-first into the snow. She tried to press back up, but her backpack pinned her down. Bucky immediately scooped her up, brushing the snow away from her face. She was shivering violently, her face pale and slightly blue-tinged where it wasn't wind-chapped and red.

"Okay, we need to find shelter, now," he announced. He had seen enough cases of hypothermia during his time in Siberia to know how quickly things could go south. Nyssa mumbled something, but he didn't catch it and didn't have time to waste trying to convince her. Cradling her to his chest, he doubled his pace, charging through the drifting snow as fast as he could manage. Darshan bounded after him, following closely behind. He rounded a curve and discovered a hollow surrounded by canyon wall on three sides, providing a shield from the wailing winds. He lay her down in a sheltered corner and set about erecting their tent as fast as he could. Darshan lay down on top of her, whining slightly and sniffing at her. She put her hands on him, her movements so uncoordinated it wasn't clear whether she was trying to push him away or stroke his fur. He finished setting up and quickly moved her into the tent's shelter. She began fumbling clumsily at her jacket zipper with shaking hands. Bucky helped, zipping the jacket open and then peeling away layer after layer of damp clothing. Her skin was cold as ice under his hands. The built-in thermometer in his left arm informed him that her core temperature had fallen to just under thirty degrees Celsius. Tucking her into the sleeping bag, he quickly stripped down and slid in beside her, holding her close and willing his body to warm her quickly. Whining softly, Darshan nosed into the other side of the sleeping bag, wriggling down beside his frozen mistress. A moment later, his muzzle appeared, resting on her shoulder. Nyssa muttered something unintelligible and buried her face against Bucky's chest.

After about twenty minutes, her shivering subsided. Her breathing slowed as she found herself able to take deep breaths again. She tilted her head up towards him.

"If you wanted to get me back in the sack, you could have just asked," she said cheekily. Bucky gave her a stern look, knowing that, though she could not see his face, she would be able to read both his irritation and the underlying fear. Her half-smile faded, and her expression became chagrined. She tilted her forehead into his chest, hiding her face from him. "I'm sorry," she whispered, her breath tickling against his sternum.

"Sorry for what?" he asked with a disbelieving chuckle. "You couldn't have known there was going to be a blizzard. The weatherman didn't even know, and he gets paid to predict it. If you ask me, he should be fired." Nyssa laughed shakily.

"I'm sorry our trip didn't go as smoothly as planned," she sighed. "And I'm sorry for… for being weak." A note of bitterness crept into her voice. Bucky tilted her head back up towards him, brushing her hair back from her face with his other hand.

"You're not weak. Besides, I like it when you need my help," he admitted, keeping his tone light. "Though I could do without the part where you almost freeze to death."

"At least it was only almost," Nyssa remarked wryly. She ran her still-chilly hands up his ribs, drawing an involuntary gasp from him. She chuckled impishly and began experimenting, running her cold fingers over different, sensitive parts of his body to see what kinds of responses she could elicit. Bucky indulged her, still enjoying her touch even when it did come with a chilling effect. But when she traced an icy trail down over his inner thigh, he grabbed her hand to halt its journey.

"Enough," he breathed. She pouted at him.

"Sorry, you're just so warm," she groaned. He pulled her up so her face was closer to his and kissed her tentatively. She responded eagerly, twining her arms around his neck and pulling him closer to deepen the kiss. He moved his hand over the svelte curves that he had come to know so well, and she moaned softly against his mouth. Her moan turned into a gasp as he moved his hand between her legs.

"Let's finish getting you warmed up, hmm?" he murmured. She moaned and sighed at his ministrations.

"I don't recall this technique from the hypothermia first aid they were teaching," she mumbled distractedly. He chuckled, but paused.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked.

"Mmmm, no," she replied, pressing closer to him.

* * *

Two hours later, Bucky left the tent to assess their surroundings. The ground and trail were buried underneath more than a foot of snow, but the storm had subsided. The temperature was dropping again, the wind still freezing cold, but visibility was crystal clear, giving him a breathtaking view of the whitewashed canyon. Nyssa joined him, dressed again in her warmest clothing.

"Ready for the hike back?" Bucky asked, trying and failing to keep the note of concern out of his voice. Nyssa smiled at him reassuringly.

"It's only a couple more miles. I'll just focus on the hot tub back in our room, and collapsing into it when we finally get there," she said with a sigh, then took a swig of the hot chicken broth in her flask.

It was only a couple more miles, but it was the steepest part of their hike as they rose out of the canyon. Bucky could tell how exhausted Nyssa still was by her movements, but she never complained or asked him to slow down. The trail grew colder and icier as they reached the rim. At long last, they reached their lodgings, and Nyssa sighed with relief.

As soon as they walked into the lobby, Bucky noticed that the lights were dimmer, and most of them weren't working. The massive television on the wall was dark. Ramona was still sitting behind the desk, but her expression was worried. He could hear the whine of an emergency radio, with indistinct chatter from the local rangers. Overlaying that was what sounded like a newscast as they drew closer to the desk.

"…reported accumulations of a record-breaking thirty-six inches of snow in some areas. Power outages are affecting significant areas of Coconino and Yavapai counties. Emergency crews are working around the clock to restore power and reach stranded motorists. There have been at least thirteen deaths attributed to the storm so far, but many more have been reported missing. Roads are still covered in snow and ice, and many highways have been closed due to unsafe conditions. Police are advising to avoid travel if at all possible." Ramona looked up as they approached the desk, and relief flooded over her face.

"Oh, you made it back!" she exclaimed in relief.

"Is the power out?" Bucky asked. She nodded.

"We're on the backup generator, so we're asking all our guests to keep their power usage to a minimum. The televisions may not work in every room, but you should have lights, at least."

"Probably not supposed to use the jets in the hot tub, though, huh?" Nyssa asked ruefully. Ramona shook her head at her.

"I'm afraid not, Dr. Taylor," Ramona replied with a shake of her head. "But I can have some hot water sent up to your room."

"Maybe later," Nyssa sighed regretfully. Then her expression became concerned. "Are there many still missing?" Ramona glanced around, as if confiding something she knew she shouldn't.

"There are more than twenty still unaccounted for," she admitted. "The rangers are trying to find as many as they can, but it's a lot of ground to cover."

"Let the rangers know that, if they want any help from me, I'm available," Nyssa said, her tone shifting to businesslike. Bucky looked at his wife in dismay. Ramona's eyes lit up.

"I'll be sure to do that," she said. Nyssa smiled at her, then turned and headed in the direction of their room. Bucky followed.

"Are you insane?" he hissed as soon as they were out of earshot. "You almost froze to death a few hours ago. Now you want to go back out in it?"

"It was hypothermia, technically. I wasn't frozen," she pointed out. "And that just gives me more reason to make sure it doesn't happen to anyone else." She stopped and faced him. "I won't be hiking out again; they'll probably take me in the helicopter so we can cover ground more quickly. Assuming they want my help in any case."

"Well, if they want you, they have to take me, too," Bucky declared. "I don't want you out there alone." Nyssa's defensive expression softened.

"I'm not going to be alone," she reminded him gently. "But I don't mind having you there. This is supposed to be our vacation, after all."

"Some vacation," he muttered as he followed her back to their room. "Here we are, rescuing people again. It's pretty much our day job." He followed her through the door. She let her pack fall without taking the time to unpack or even place it carefully to the side. Bucky took his off carefully, setting it against the wall for easy access. Fishing out their wet clothes, he hung them in the bathroom to start drying off. "I have a feeling that, by the time we get home, we're going to need a vacation from this vacation." He turned to see her reaction, but she was already fast asleep on the bed, still fully clothed.

* * *

The knock on their door came less than an hour later. Bucky opened the door to see a man wearing a uniform with a park ranger badge peeking through his unzipped parka.

"Sorry to bother you, sir," he said, "but reception said the Patchwork Doll was in this room." Bucky nodded and stepped to the side, gesturing to Nyssa sleeping soundly on the bed behind him. Darshan was curled up next to her, and for once Bucky was okay with letting the dog on the bed.

"We just got back not that long ago," he informed the man. "Had a hypothermia scare around lunchtime." The ranger looked sharply from Nyssa's still form to Bucky, then nodded understanding.

"We wouldn't ask if there weren't lives at stake," the ranger assured him. Bucky nodded.

"Then you won't mind if I invite myself along, too," he said, quietly but firmly. "Just to make sure she doesn't push herself too far." The ranger inclined his head towards him.

"There's not a lot of room in the helicopter," he mentioned, looking Bucky over carefully. After a moment, he smiled and extended a hand towards him. "But of course we would be happy to have Captain America along."

"Captain America is still back in New York," Bucky replied, shaking the offered hand. "And I'm on vacation. Call me Bucky." Movement out of the corner of his eye drew his attention, and he looked over to see Nyssa sitting up and stretching.

"Hello, Max," she said, stifling a yawn as she rose from the bed and moved to stand by the two men. Darshan trailed behind her, paws padding nearly noiselessly on the hardwood floor. "It's good to work with you again, though I wish the circumstances were better."

"I could say the same, Dr. Taylor," Max replied, shaking her hand. "With this heavy snow, there's been avalanches reported on the North Rim. A couple dozen hikers reported overdue, multiple distress calls, most of which lost the trail in the storm. The high today of negative three, and that's going to plummet as soon as the sun goes down."

"Sounds like a bad combination," Nyssa observed.

"Yes, ma'am," Max confirmed. "That's why we were hoping you could help us find them all."

"Well, why are we still here, then?" Nyssa asked, moving towards the door. "There's no time to waste."

* * *

The helicopter was marginally warmer than traveling on foot had been. This was not as comfortable as traveling by Quinjet. Nysa was perched just behind the cockpit, eyes closed, murmuring directions to the pilot as the whirlybird wove through the canyon. Bucky sat in the back where the team of three other rangers had gathered. He would help, but was also keeping an eye on her for further signs of exhaustion or strain. Darshan, for once, had been left behind in their room. Every so often, they touched down, and stranded hikers loaded on gratefully, in pairs or in groups. Bucky helped where he could, lifting people into the helicopter or helping to retrieve the injured or less mobile. They took on as many as the helicopter would hold, then flew back to the Village to drop them off in safety before returning to the canyon in search of more survivors. There were a few minor injuries, and more than a few cases of hypothermia and frostbite, but the Village medical team was on standby to provide whatever care was needed.

The sky began to lighten, streaking with pinks and oranges as the sun peeked over the horizon. The helicopter flew back over the canyon for the fifth time. Their rescue tally was up to twenty-eight. The rangers warned that they may have already saved all of the survivors, but Nyssa insisted that they go out one more time.

They passed over the western end of the North Rim, and Nyssa sat up straighter.

"I'm picking up two more," she announced, holding an arm up and pointing in the direction the was sensing. "Northwest by west." As they drew closer to the canyon wall, the growing daylight revealed two figures clinging to the side of the cliff. They were both on a shallow ledge halfway up the steep canyon walls, a hundred feet down from the nearest trail. The pilot flew as close as she could, but the angle made it tricky. As they drew closer, Bucky recognized the stranded travelers. Todd was lying supine, sprawled across the ledge, and Brian was crouched next to him. From the way Todd's leg was stretched out, Bucky suspected it was broken. For a moment, he wished that Sam were there to help with this rescue, but dismissed the thought as unhelpful.

'I'm not sure we can get to them," one of the rangers murmured to the other. "Not from here." The rock face was sheer, and the helicopter couldn't get much closer. Bucky peered out the side of the helicopter, judging the distance, but then he looked down. He steadied himself at the dizzying drop to the canyon floor. He had mostly conquered his fear of heights, but occasionally a sharp descent still gave him pause. He swallowed down the fear and turned back towards the rangers.

"I can do it," he affirmed. The rangers looked at him in surprise.

"We can't get closer than ten feet and still be able to maneuver," the pilot warned. "And that ledge isn't more than eighteen inches wide, but they're taking up most of it. Not much room to land." Bucky shrugged.

"Shouldn't be a problem." He strapped on the safety harness – he was confident in his abilities, not foolhardy – and grabbed sharp, serrated piton from the rack. He tied a rope to it and handed the loose end to Max, who nodded at him. Bracing himself in the side opening, he assessed the needed trajectory, tensed, then jumped. He hit the canyon wall at the narrow end of the ledge, his boots barely finding purchase on the four-inch-wide rock. He leaned into the cliff wall and edged closer to Brian and Todd. Brian grabbed at his arm as he drew closer, almost pulling Bucky off balance.

"Help us," he pleaded. "Todd is hurt, and we lost our food and water when we fell down here." Wordlessly, Bucky handed over his flask to the man, who poured some into Todd's mouth before taking a swig himself. In the meantime, Bucky scanned the cliff wall behind them, looking for the merest hint of a crack. He found a likely spot and drove the piton into it, anchoring the rope into the rock. Max tied off the other end and sent a portaledge over on the zipline that Bucky had created. Bucky crouched down next to Todd.

"Are you ready to get out of here?" he asked. Todd stared at him in confusion, and Bucky suspected that the cold had taken its toll on him as well.

"Todd, you're going to be okay," Brian said tearfully. "He's going to get you loaded in the helicopter, and then we're going to go get that leg fixed, okay?" He gripped Todd's hand. "Just hold on, okay? Don't give up on me now." Todd stared fixedly up at Brian.

"Never gonna let you forget you almost got me killed on our honeymoon," he mumbled. Brian burst out laughing through his tears.

"I would expect no less," he assured his husband. Bucky crouched down as much as he was able to in the cramped quarters.

"Can you help me lift him onto the portaledge?" he asked Brian. The other man nodded uncertainly. "I'll get the shoulders, you get the legs," he instructed. Todd cried out in pain as they moved him, but a minute later Todd was gliding over the gap to the helicopter. Clipping a carabiner to the rope, Brian followed closely behind. Bucky gripped the rope with his left hand and pushed away from the canyon wall, sliding back into the helicopter easily. Cutting the rope, they headed back to the hospital to drop off the injured men.

* * *

The sun was high in the sky by the time they made it back to their hotel room. The power had finally been restored. Nyssa was tempted to try using the hot tub, but she had been pushing through exhaustion for the last several hours. She barely had the energy to get undressed before she slid down under the covers of the bed with a sigh. Bucky hovered over her, affection tinged with concern. She mustered her last remaining energy to lean forward and kiss him.

"You were amazing today," she sighed with a smile.

"So were you," he replied, caressing her cheek with pride. "You saved thirty people."

"I just hope we found everyone," she said ruefully, yawning. Bucky shook his head at her.

"Don't worry about that," he chided. "We did what we could. Now, you rest." Nyssa wasn't about to argue. Within seconds, she was fast asleep.

* * *

 **Thanks to karina001, DarylDixon'sLover and LadyAmazon for your feedback and comments! It feeds my soul and makes my heart happy.**


	26. What Makes Life Worth Living

**Disclaimer: Marvel Characters are property of Marvel. Original Characters are mine. Just for fun, not for profit.**

* * *

 **What Makes Life Worth Living**

"Man, you guys can't even go on vacation without having to step in and be heroes." Seraphina shook her head as she steered her Tesla to the right. "Don't you ever get time to just…. Have fun?"

"Oh, we find plenty of ways to have fun." Nyssa grinned down at her hands. Sera snorted.

"I meant aside from screwing each other's brains out," she said pointedly. Nyssa rolled her eyes.

"It sounds so crude when you put it that way," she groaned. Sera chuckled.

"I was going more for primal and animalistic," she said, and imitated a wild animal growl. Nyssa giggled, shaking her head at her friend.

"We don't make those kinds of noises, but hey, whatever floats your boat," she said with a chuckle. "I don't judge."

"That's good," Sera replied cheerfully. "I did notice that you kind of skimmed over the part where you almost died, though."

"I think that's a bit of an exaggeration," Nyssa said defensively.

"Do you?" Sera retorted. "Hypothermia is nothing to sneer at, Nyssa."

"I know, but I'm fine," she insisted. "I still managed to find thirty other people who got lost in the blizzard, and we were back before lunch."

"Which you promptly slept through," Sera pointed out. "And dinner. And you barely woke up for breakfast the next morning."

"I see you and Bucky have been talking," Nyssa observed.

"Commiserating, more like," Sera corrected. "Nobody would have blamed you for just resting and recovering. You didn't have to go back out in the cold to rescue everyone else."

"I know I didn't have to," Nyssa sighed. "But they needed my help."

"Are you going to miss that?" Sera asked, glancing in her rearview mirror. "Once you've got kids and can't go save people at the drop of a hat?" Nyssa turned her attention out of the window and didn't answer immediately.

"Where exactly are you taking me, again?" she asked, sitting up a little straighter in the passenger seat. Sera clucked her tongue at her.

"Uh-uh, no spoilers," she admonished. "You will see when we get there."

"I will?" Nyssa said brightly. "That'll be quite the trick." Sera groaned as she realized her phrasing.

"Ugh, that's not what I meant. You know what I meant." She shook her head. "I'm surprised you haven't already plucked the answer out of my brain."

"You know I don't do that without permission," Nyssa replied.

"Except for when you do," Sera replied teasingly.

"In emergencies, when lives are at stake," Nyssa conceded. "Not to ruin my best friend's surprise."

"Thank heavens you're an ethical telepath," Seraphina retorted. "Don't worry, we're almost there."

* * *

"So I've sorted through these already," Steve announced, pointing. "This pile, I'm definitely including. These I got printed, but I'm having second thoughts about whether to include them. I'm too close to it, I need some help to decide which ones to include. I need at least five more for the show. I was hoping you could help me with that."

"Sure," Bucky agreed amiably.

"I'm not an art critic, though," Sam pointed out. "So all I can give you is my honest opinion."

"That's all I ask," Steve replied. He held up the first painting for judgement. It was another one from his memories of 1930's Brooklyn, a cityscape of bustling streets rendered in nearly photorealistic detail.

"Yes," Bucky said decisively. The scene almost made him homesick. Sam grimaced slightly.

"Nah," he said, shaking his head. "I vote no."

"Okay..." Steve looked from Bucky to Sam and back again, sighed, and set the painting back in the same section. "How about this one?" He showed them a scene with a more modern flavor; a moment after a battle had ended, with rubble and debris scattered on the ground, and the shadowy outline of the foe they had felled beneath it. All of the Avengers were present, but instead of heroic poses, they were caught in the moment before they realized victory was theirs. Their expressions varied from fatigue and pain, to wild desperation or rage, gleeful belligerence or grim determination. Bucky picked out his silhouette lurking in the shadows in the background. Falcon was soaring into the foreground, wings spread impressively.

"Yes," Sam declared. "You should definitely include that one."

"I don't know," Bucky said dubiously. "I don't think that's one of your best ones." Steve gave them both a look of exasperation. He set that print down and picked the next one up.

"And this one?" he asked, turning the picture around to reveal a view of Central Park.

"Yes," Sam chorused with Bucky, then quickly glanced over at him and shook his head. "I mean, no." Steve leveled a look of tolerant annoyance at his two closest friends.

"Come on, you two," he said reproachfully. "This is important to me. It's my first art show. At an actual gallery. And it's opening tonight.

"All right," Sam replied with resignation. "Why don't you line all of them up against the wall, and we can pick the ones we like best?" Steve considered that for a moment, then nodded. Ten minutes later, Bucky and Sam both stood with arms folded over their chests as they contemplated the row of canvases lined up against the wall like colorful soldiers.

* * *

"Okay, watch your step, there's a little step up," Seraphina instructed, offering Nyssa a steadying arm. "And… here we are." Nyssa stopped, expanding her focus to determine who was in the room she now found herself in. A grin spread across her face.

"Surprise!" All of the women that Nyssa included in her closest circle had gathered in the event room at Maman. Wanda sat in the corner with Petra in her lap. Laura was there with Lila and Gabrielle. Michaela lounged on a couch next to Mackenzie, her oldest daughter, and Rani. Natasha was deep in discussion with Shuri. The smell of coffee, vanilla-scented candles and baked goodies filled the room.

"Oh, my goodness!" Nyssa exclaimed. "This is amazing and I love it, but… what is this?"

"Your baby shower, silly," Sera informed her. Nyssa gave her a surprised look. "We know how much you've wanted these babies, and we wanted to… come together as your village to help you celebrate."

"Aww…" Nyssa felt moisture welling up in her eyes. "That's so sweet. I'm so happy to have all of you, too."

* * *

"Okay, so this one is a definite no," Steve declared, turning the canvas paint-side towards the wall. "And the tree and the mounted police are both yes." Bucky and Sam exchanged glances, then nodded.

"I think those are your best ones," Sam agreed. "And that should be enough, right?"

"Yes," Steve confirmed. "Thanks to both of you for your help."

"Do you need any help pricing them?" Sam asked. "Because you can get a lot more for them now than back in the Forties."

"No, Sam," Steve sighed. "I've already discussed pricing with, ah, my agent." Sam raised his eyebrows.

"Your agent?" he repeated. "When did you get an agent?" Steve looked down at his artwork lined up against the wall, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Seraphina thought it sounded more professional to refer to her that way," he admitted. "But she did help me get the show, and she read through all the contracts to make sure everything was fair, and she did some of the negotiating, so I guess it's the truth, anyway."

"Hey, Steve, why don't you have this one in the show?" Bucky had wandered over to another corner of the living room that had canvases stacked several deep, combing through Steve's rejected pieces. Some of them he had already seen, but there were a few new ones. He held up a large canvas towards Steve and Sam with a smirk. Steve immediately turned red.

"Put that away, Buck," he requested, shifting uncomfortably. Stretched languorously across the canvas was an elegantly sprawled Seraphina, clad in nothing but her curly red hair. Steve shook his head. "I'm not ready to share that one yet."

"Are you sure?" Bucky asked. "It's really beautiful work."

"Yeah, stunning," Sam agreed, regarding the painting with wide eyes. Giving Bucky a dirty look, Steve took the canvas from him.

"It doesn't fit the theme of the show, and I don't have any prints of this one," Steve pointed out. "It's not in. That's not up for debate." He set the painting back down, image turned away from them.

"Any plans for another show with that kind of theme?" Bucky inquired, raising a roguish eyebrow. Steve rubbed the back of his neck.

"You can't have a theme from one painting," he argued. Bucky gave him a pointed look, and he sighed. "I dunno, Buck. Let's just get through this one first, okay?" Relenting, Bucky let the subject drop and picked up a stack of framed prints.

"Okay," he replied amiably. "Let's get these prints over to the gallery, then."

* * *

Nyssa sat down on the couch, grinning at the other women gathered in a half-circle around her. Sera set a large wrapped box covered in pastel baby footprints in her lap. Nyssa's deft fingers quickly found the seams and unwrapped it neatly, then found the lid of the box and lifted it up. She reached inside to find…

"Books?" she guessed, lifting one of them out of the container. Her fingers skimmed over the cover automatically, then paused. Her face registered surprise. "Braille books?"

"I know how worried you were about being able to read to them," Seraphina explained. "They don't make a lot of brightly colored children's books with Braille, so we figured out a way around that. We all got a few of our favorites, and then I went through with my handy Braille label maker and made sure all the words inside were translated. But they still have the words and the bright illustrations."

"Ohhh…." Nyssa breathed, tears welling in her eyes as she traced the raised dots on the cover, her lips moving soundlessly as she read the title. Setting that one aside, she reached into the package eagerly to explore what other treasures it held. One by one, she pulled the books out, running her fingers over the covers and reading the titles out loud. Soon a stack of more than a dozen books towered beside her on the couch. "These mean so much, I can't even express… words fail me." Sera sat down next to her, resting a hand on her shoulder. Nyssa laid her hand on top of Sera's, smiling through her tears at her friend.

"All right," Seraphina declared softly, putting another gift bag in Nyssa's lap. "Next one. This is from Shuri." Nyssa's head swiveled to look at the Wakandan princess in astonishment.

"Shuri, they wouldn't even exist if not for you. You don't need to give me another gift on top of that," she protested.

"Nonsense," Shuri proclaimed. "I couldn't let my babies go without the traditional blessings."

"Your babies?" Michaela repeated. Shuri nodded with a grin.

"Of course. You should see my brother's face when I call them that," she commented impishly. Nyssa reached in and pulled out a length of fabric. She ran the material between her fingers, looking slightly perplexed. "It's for carrying the babies. I can show you after they are here." Nyssa's expression brightened from confused to excited. She nodded and reached into the gift bag to discover a second piece of fabric similar to the first, a metal cylinder the size of her fist, and a pair of intricate vibranium ornaments. "You hang those over the babies when they are sleeping, and it helps them grow to be strong and courageous," Shuri elaborated. Nyssa held up the metal cylinder next.

"Is this traditional as well?" she asked Shuri slyly. Shuri laughed.

"No. That one, I made," she confessed. She took the squat canister from Nyssa, pressed a pair of indentations on the side, and set it on the table. Soft music drifted out of it, played on traditional Wakandan instruments. The room around them was transformed into an African savannah, an elephant herd meandering through in miniature. A herd of grazing gazelle raised their heads, then took off in graceful escape as the majestic forms of lions emerged at the edges of the scene. A flock of birds flew overhead, filling the skies with their cries. The terrain shifted to woods, with shadowy panthers lounging in low-hanging branches. A troupe of monkeys brachiated through the tops of the trees, sending a colorful cloud of fleeing birds into the sky. The image shifted again, to a breathtaking waterfall cascading down majestic cliffs.

"Holy shit, is that Wakanda?" Seraphina gasped. "All of it?" Shuri grinned broadly,

"My country is beautiful, is it not?" she asked rhetorically, but there were several awed and murmured agreements in the room.

* * *

Steve adjusted his tie nervously.

"Relax," Bucky advised, clasping his friend on the shoulder. "You look fine. Distinguished. The art looks phenomenal. All you have to do now is wait for people to show up."

"Right. And also, convince them to buy it. That's the easy part, right?" Steve's lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile.

"With these pictures, and your reputation, it should be," Seraphina commented as she strode through the gallery. She paused in front of one of the paintings for an extended look before crossing to Steve's side. She dropped a comforting kiss on his cheek. "Just be your usual polite and honest self, and I'm sure it won't take much to have them eating out of your hand."

"I'd prefer they just buy a painting," Steve muttered to himself, but then brightened slightly. "You look stunning." Seraphina smiled at him, smoothing down her dress.

"Thank you," she said. "And if it makes you feel any better, there's already a line outside." Steve's eyes widened, and he took a shaky breath in, then exhaled.

"You've faced the Red Skull, more than one alien invasion, HYDRA, killer robots and the Mad Titan," Bucky pointed out. "I'm sure you can handle a few hours with some stuffed-shirt art collectors." Steve gave him a dirty look.

"Probably not a good idea to insult potential clients," he noted. Bucky shrugged.

"You didn't say it," he replied. "Don't worry, I'll behave myself. I'll just be lurking at the edges, doing my best impression of… an art connoisseur." Steve nodded.

"Thanks again for being here tonight," he said gratefully. "I know these types of things aren't your favorite." Bucky shrugged.

"It's your big day," he reminded his friend. "I wouldn't miss it." People were beginning to trickle in, and Bucky cleared away to let Steve talk with potential buyers. It wasn't hard to get lost among the paintings. Viewing New York circa 1930 through Steve's eyes gave even Bucky a different perspective of the memories he had lost for so long. A bittersweet pang of homesickness washed over him as he looked at the print of the neighborhood they had spent so much time in as boys.

"If you want to buy some, you should," Nyssa said encouragingly from his elbow. He glanced at her in surprise.

"When did you get here?" he asked.

"Just now," she replied. "Did you want to get this one?"

"Maybe," Bucky hedged, eyeing the price tag under the title warily. "I want to be supportive, but I'm not sure I can justify spending that much on something you can't even see." Nyssa's silk-gloved fingers threaded gently through his.

"I can see how it makes you feel," she noted softly. "I think that's the perfect reason to get it." His hand tightened around hers.

"I didn't expect to see you here," Steve commented, coming up behind them. Nyssa turned to smile at him.

"Why wouldn't I come to support the newest professional artist in town?" she inquired teasingly.

"Well, it's not like you can… enjoy the gallery the same way as everyone else," Steve pointed out.

"I enjoy watching all of the people enjoying your art," Nyssa returned.

"And I don't know if I can call myself professional yet," Steve admitted. "I've had a few interested, but no sales yet."

"Well, you have one now," Bucky informed him solemnly. He pointed to the painting. "I want to buy that one."

"For you, Buck…" Steve began, but Bucky shook his head.

"No, no friend discounts. I'm paying list price," he insisted, pointing to the price listed on the title card.

"Are you sure?" Steve asked disbelievingly.

"I mean, that street has gotta be worth at least that much, don't you think?" Bucky asked pointedly.

"Did I hear a sale?" Seraphina interrupted, appearing on Steve's other side. Steve smiled.

"Bucky wants to buy that one," he informed her. She rewarded Bucky with a dazzling smile and took out her cell phone.

"Great! Cash or credit?" she asked. Steve glanced over his shoulder, and his expression shifted to one of shock.

"I wasn't expecting Ross tonight," he commented, half to himself. He glanced over at Bucky and Nyssa. "I better go mingle again. Thanks again, I'll catch up with you later." He turned and vanished into the slowly growing crowd.

"Great choice, you guys," Sera commented. She handed Nyssa back her card, then pressed a "sold" label over the price on the wall. She clasped Nyssa's hand briefly, then followed Steve back into the crowd. Bucky went back to studying the painting. Nyssa leaned into him.

"Happy with your purchase?" she inquired. Bucky nodded slowly.

"I could tell you some stories about things that happened on that street…." He said with a half-smirk, then glanced down at her. "But I probably shouldn't."

"Oh, no, you'll have to tell me now," Nyssa teased. "At least the two most exciting stories." Bucky chuckled. His hand tightened on hers, inviting her to look at the painting through his eyes, and he soon felt the familiar sensation that told him she was sharing his vision.

"You see these steps right here?" he asked, pointing. Nyssa nodded. "That was where the Napolis lived…"

* * *

The crowd shrank and grew, and Bucky noticed Nyssa beginning to lean on him more heavily. He didn't mind, but it did make him concerned. She still hadn't fully recovered from their trip yet, and her exposure there had added a touch of frostbite to the hand that was still healing from being burned. She hadn't been complaining, but he knew it hurt her, and she had been more easily fatigued. He could tell that she was tired, and being in the middle of a crowd, some friends but mostly strangers, was taking its toll. When she stumbled over a plate that someone had carelessly left on the floor, Bucky caught her and pulled her to an unoccupied corner.

"Are you okay?" he asked. Nyssa nodded.

"I'm fine," she reassured him, then sighed. "It's just been a long day. A really amazing day, but… long. I probably should go home and get some rest."

"If you want to go, you should go," Bucky encouraged her. "Steve appreciated that you came. Nobody expects you to stay the entire night."

"But you want to," Nyssa realized out loud. Bucky nodded.

"Do you want me to walk you home first?" he asked. Nyssa shook her head.

"I'll be fine," she assured him. Standing on her tiptoes, she kissed him good night, then disappeared into the crowd.

* * *

Bucky's purchase may have been the first of the evening, but it was not the last. Almost a quarter of the paintings had sold stickers beside them by the time the gallery closed for the night. Steve invited him out for celebratory drinks after everything had wrapped up. It was late when Bucky finally returned to their apartment. He expected Nyssa to be fast asleep, so was surprised to hear soft guitar chords and melodic singing.

 _"...swim through a silver moonbeam lagoon, let them carry you to the farthest star…_ " She stopped singing as Bucky approached the closet, her hands muting her guitar strings self-consciously. She was seated cross-legged on the floor of the closet, facing the container that held their still-gestating offspring. "Is it later than I think or are you home early?" she asked sheepishly.

"It's two-thirty in the morning," he informed her, leaning against the closet doorframe and folding his arms over his chest. "Aren't you supposed to be sleeping?"

"I tried," she replied. "I really did. Just couldn't get to sleep." The strings of her guitar hummed softly as she moved her hands away, folding them on top of the guitar instead. "They're getting close, I think. They can hear now. They know when I'm near. I didn't feel right… leaving them alone."

"They're not alone," Bucky reminded her. "The bed is only eight feet away. And you need sleep, too."

"I know," Nyssa acknowledged, but didn't move. Bucky sighed and crossed into the closet, sitting beside her on the carpet.

"Are you writing songs for them?" he asked. Nyssa nodded.

"I still remember the songs my dad used to sing for me all the time," she said softly. "He wrote most of them. It was something special between us. I just… wanted to have something special for them, too." Her fingers moved deftly across the strings again, picking out a gentle melody. She paused and leveled a look at Bucky that made him momentarily forget that she was blind. "You should talk to them, too, so they know your voice." Bucky cleared his throat uncomfortably. He wasn't sure about talking at a cannister in the closet. Intellectually, he knew what it contained, but it still seemed very distant and clinical. Nyssa tapped on the display, and it lit up, projecting the image of the two babies within the cylinder. They were curled up against each other, the head of one nestled against the other's chest, arms and legs entangled awkwardly. Bucky's eyes widened. He had forgotten the emulator had a display function, and Nyssa didn't tend to use it. He was surprised to see that the babies looked like… well, babies. Their eyes were closed, but they had rounded cheeks, cute button noses, and the start of what looked like soft curls on their heads. "Maybe that will make it easier?" Nyssa suggested. Bucky stared at them a few moments longer, then glanced speculatively at Nyssa.

"Maybe you could teach me," he suggested, gesturing to her instrument. She frowned slightly.

"You want me to teach you to play the guitar?" she asked incredulously. He chuckled softly.

"Yes," he replied. "I can see that music is going to be a part of our family, and I don't sing, so…" He spread an open hand, letting the gesture complete his sentence. Nyssa grinned, excitement glinting in her eyes. She handed him the guitar she had been cradling in her lap, then got to her feet and darted to the back of the closet. She returned a moment later with another guitar and seated herself across from him.

"Okay, so these are both in standard tuning," she instructed, twisting the tuner pegs as she plucked a string and changed the pitch slightly. "The best place to start, I think, is with some basic chords." She positioned her middle and ring finger on the second and third fret and strummed. "E minor." Bucky imitated her hand position and motion, and was rewarded by his guitar making the same sound as hers. Nyssa grinned and nodded encouragingly. "Great. Now, C major, or just C. You leave the sixth string out of this one." She repositioned her fingers and demonstrated. Bucky copied her again and winced as his chord sounded slightly sour in comparison. He adjusted his left hand and tried again, with better results. "That's it," Nyssa praised. She guided him through G, D, A minor, E and A. It soon became a game, with her shifting to a new chord and Bucky trying to match it as quickly as he could. The game ended in mutual laughter.

"Keep practicing those," Nyssa said encouragingly. "Once you have a few chords down, you can play just about any song you hear on the radio." Bucky looked at her in disbelief.

"Just seven chords to play any song?" he asked skeptically. Nyssa shook her head.

"No, you're right. Most of the time you don't need all seven. Most songs just use four," she informed him with a grin. He stared at her, still unconvinced. With a smirk, she began strumming her guitar, her fingers making now-familiar shapes as she played. She began to sing, and Bucky recognized the song within a few bars. She sang a couple lines of that song, then switched to a different one, then another, then another, all the while playing the same four chords on her guitar. Bucky watched her performance with amused incredulity as she included more and more songs. She finally finished, and the chords that filled the closet faded away. Bucky shook his head.

"You'd think people would want a little more variety," he mused. Nyssa shook her head.

"Not necessarily," she corrected him. "People like what's familiar. Listening to familiar music gets the dopamine flowing through the mesolimbic and mesocortical pathways, commonly referred to as the reward centers in the brain, as well as activating the limbic and paralimbic regions, which process emotion. Lights 'em up like a Christmas tree." Chuckling, Bucky leaned forward and kissed her.

"Mmm, I love it when you talk nerdy to me," he said teasingly. She made a face at him but laughed back. Bucky set aside the guitar and extended his hand towards her. "Come on, let's go to bed."

* * *

 **It's true, most pop songs do just use four chords. Often the same four. If you don't believe me, look up "4 Chord Song" by Axis of Awesome.**

 **Thanks to DarylDixon'sLover, karina001 and Qweb for your comments. I'm glad you're still enjoying the story!**


	27. Nightmares and Birthdays

**Disclaimer: Marvel Characters are property of Marvel. Original Characters are mine. Just for fun, not for profit.**

* * *

 **Nightmares and Birthdays**

 _He had been left in the Chair, abandoned in the bunker in Siberia. The restraints were still secured around his arms and waist, and he was still weak from having just been revived and then tortured. His entire body throbbed and ached, and his throat was raw from screaming. They had assessed him as too weak to be a threat, and just left him there. There had been no explanation, no word, not even a taunt. He was left wondering what the hell was going on, but wasn't about to pass up an opportunity for escape. The first hour was spent trying to break out of the chair, but by now HYDRA had learned his limits well. He succeeded only in expending what little energy he had left and was unable to loosen any of the restraints. The insult was twofold: that he was seen as harmless enough to simply ignore, and that even left to his own devices, he didn't have the strength to leave. He closed his eyes, hopelessness and defeat crushing down on him._

 _He opened his eyes again at the sound of quiet footsteps, trying to crane his neck as best he could to see who was there. He caught a glimpse of movement out of his peripheral vision, but couldn't make out the outline. He relaxed, letting the restraints pull him back in place, but then started as he noticed her standing very close beside him. She reached out to caress his cheek, and suddenly his pain was gone. The restraints released suddenly, and he sat up, extricating himself from the Chair. She beckoned, and he followed willingly._

 _She led him through a dark hallway that he didn't recall seeing before, and opened a door to reveal the frozen hellscape of Siberia. She seemed to glide over the snow and ice, her feet barely seeming to touch the surface. They had been walking interminably long, but not very long at all, when the landscape slowly shifted from frozen to temperate, the snow giving way to green grass. She stopped mid-stride, her head cocked slightly to the side as if listening. He suddenly heard a baby crying. She changed course, moving towards the sound. He hesitated, but then followed._

 _The terrain shifted again as they followed the sound, becoming rockier, the grass sparser. The crying was becoming louder. Her pace quickened, and despite her diminutive stature, Bucky had to jog to keep up. She paused, then corrected course. Suddenly, they were climbing a hill, the crying coming from ahead and above them. She vanished abruptly, but as he finished puling himself up onto the ledge, he realized she had disappeared into the cave. He ventured into the darkness just as the crying stopped. She cradled the tiny figure to her chest. He took a step closer, and suddenly realized he was holding a gun that he didn't remember having when they left the bunker._

 _The baby started crying again, and he was gripped with a sudden panic. They would hear, they would come and find them. They would capture him again. He couldn't let that happen. The baby wouldn't stop crying. He took careful aim, and his finger tightened on the trigger…._

Bucky jerked awake, his breath catching in his throat, blood rushing in his ears. His stomach was clenched, his heart pounding. It had been a long time since his dreams had been so disturbing. There had been enough threads of reality and memory woven into the sequence to leave a sense of dread in his heart that wasn't easily shaken. He didn't particularly want to analyze what it might mean. He was alone in bed. Throwing back the covers, he went prowling to discover why. His search was a short one. He found Nyssa in the closet, still fast asleep, curled around the emulator, as he so often found her lately. Darshan was lying only inches away from her. One hand was tucked under her head, the other relaxed at her side, swathed in white bandages to protect skin that hadn't quite healed yet. Bucky leaned against the wall with a sigh. He debated whether to wake her or let her sleep. He could use her reassurance after his nightmare, but he also knew that she hadn't been getting much sleep lately. He stood there watching her sleep for several minutes, half hoping she would wake up and make the decision easier. He wasn't certain how ready he was to relate the events from his nightmare just yet. Her face was peaceful, the worry that had been plucking at her comely features smoothed away in sleep. She stirred, and he took a step back. It wouldn't be the first time she had been awakened by his upset, even without him trying. Deciding to let her rest, Bucky left.

Throwing some clothes on, he went downstairs. The tower was mostly quiet, although the light shining from under the door to Tony's workshop raised some questions as to whether someone else was awake at this ungodly hour. Bucky continued to the bottom level, ducking into one of the practice rooms. It was sparsely appointed, with a large mat on the floor, a few crates scattered in the corners, and a row of what appeared to be mannequins lined up along the far wall. Bucky switched on the lights and moved to the middle of the mat.

"Friday," he called out, trusting that the AI was, as always, listening. "Practice sequence, four opponents, forty-five minutes."

"Difficulty level?" she inquired. Bucky sighed, rolling his neck and shoulders to loosen and warm up the muscles.

"Don't go too easy on me," he replied, "but I really need to beat the shit out of something right now."

"Very good, sir." Four of the mannequin-esque figures along the wall began to move. They moved with a fluidity that belied the fact that they were only robots, mostly thanks to Tony's master craftsmanship. Bucky fell into a defensive stance, eyeing the androids as they approached, his eyes flicking from one to the next in anticipation. The four of them moved within range, spreading out so that they surrounded him. He stood still, watching for the first sign of movement. He felt the one directly behind him move and ducked to evade the punch before spinning around and sending his own fist sailing into its face. It staggered back, but there was no time to relish the minor victory. There was no space for thought, only instinct and reaction as he fought with the relentless automatons. He rolled and dodged, kicked and punched, twisted and smashed. They were featureless, but in his mind's eye they wore the faces that still occasionally haunted his dreams: his HYDRA handlers, Zola, Pierce, Karpov. At the end of the forty-five minutes, he was soaked with sweat and gasping for breath, but still on his feet. His four opponents were sprawled across the mat. Two had dented chassis, while one had a hole punched through its chest and another was missing an arm and half of a left foot. The anxiety, shame and dread that had clung to him upon his abrupt awakening had ebbed, leaving only exhaustion and a vague satisfaction.

"Thanks, Friday," he breathed, trying to catch his breath.

"You're welcome, Master Barnes," she replied cheerfully in her Irish brogue. Bucky sighed but smiled.

"Friday, we've been over this," he reminded her. "It's Bucky."

"Very well," she replied, and he thought he heard her hesitate, although he wasn't certain that was possible for a computer. "Bucky."

* * *

He returned to their apartment and was greeted by the sight of Nyssa in the kitchen, still dressed in her nightclothes, hair tousled. She was stirring a bowlful of batter.

"Where were you?" she asked, her tone curious rather than accusatory.

"Just getting an early morning workout in," he hedged. She paused, and a sympathetic wrinkle appeared between her eyebrows.

"You know you can always wake me up when you have a nightmare, right?" she reminded him. "You don't need to just deal with it on your own." He shrugged.

"I worked it out," he said. Nyssa nodded, wrinkling her nose at him.

"Yes, I can smell that," she agreed. "Do you want to shower before breakfast? I'm making waffles."

"Mm, all of that sounds good," he noted, and dropped a kiss on her temple on his way to the bathroom. She waved the whisk playfully at him.

"Careful you don't sweat into the batter," she warned teasingly.

"It's just a little extra salt," he called over his shoulder as he disappeared into the bathroom.

* * *

By the time he was washed, dried and dressed, the smell of fresh waffles permeated the apartment. His stomach growled, reminding him of all the calories he needed to replace. The table was already set, with a large stack of waffles on a serving dish in the center, surrounded by whipped cream, fruit toppings and a variety of syrups.

"Am I forgetting a special day?" he asked, eyeing the spread. "My birthday was last week." Nyssa chuckled softly.

"No, I just felt like making waffles," she replied. "And I thought I remembered that you enjoy them, too."

"I love waffles," Bucky agreed, taking four from the stack and piling them onto his plate. "But what are you going to eat?"

"Funny man," Nyssa laughed back at him, poaching the last two off the dish before he could make room on his plate for them. "What do you have going on today?" Bucky frowned.

"Scott, Tony, Nat and I are meeting with the city planner and the architect to discuss the new prison. They want to go over security measures and see if we think they need to add anything more," he explained hesitantly. Nyssa made a face that she tried to obscure by shoveling a bite of waffle in her mouth. Bucky raised an eyebrow at her. "You don't approve of the prison," he observed. Nyssa chewed deliberately, then swallowed.

"You know how I feel about the corrections system in general," she reminded him with a sigh. "I just don't think locking them down tighter is going to improve anything if they're not doing anything to help address the reasons behind what they did."

"Do you want to come with and give them some other recommendations?" Bucky asked. Nyssa considered it earnestly for a long moment.

"How long?" she asked.

"We meet at nine, but I'm not sure how long it will take," he admitted. "Maybe until noon, maybe later." Nyssa sighed and shook her head.

"I'm tempted. But I wasn't invited. And I have plans. Maybe I could send some questions with you, if you don't mind asking for me?" She raised her eyebrows at him hopefully.

"Write them down, I'll see if I can work them into the discussion," Bucky promised. "What are your plans?"

"I have a couple morning sessions, and I've been playing phone tag with Habitat for Humanity and Big Brothers Big Sisters, so I'm hoping to get something solidified with them. Then Wanda and I were going shopping. Petra is outgrowing all of her clothes, and I have a few last-minute things I still need to get," Nyssa explained. Bucky raised his eyebrows at her.

"Last minute?" he repeated. "Is there something you know that I don't?" Nyssa shrugged.

"Just a feeling," she replied glibly. "I think we're getting very close."

"It's only been, what, five months?" he asked.

"Nineteen weeks, so just a little shy of that," she corrected. Bucky shook his head.

"That just seems so fast," he murmured, half to himself. Nyssa nodded seriously.

"It is fast. And it makes me wonder if they will maintain that rate of growth after they're born. Which is why I need to pick up more clothes, in case they outgrow everything while we're still in that initial nesting phase," she speculated. Bucky shrugged.

"I mean, they're babies," he pointed out. "As long as it's warm, do they really need to wear anything other than a diaper?" Nyssa's jaw dropped slightly, and her eyes widened.

"Diapers," she echoed. "We still don't have any diapers. I will add those to my list."

* * *

"….each cell block is on its own circuit, so if something happens on one of them, the rest are still functional. The entire complex is surrounded by a triple-layer wall. The first layer is your standard 30 foot chain link topped with concertina wire. The second layer is steel alloy slats, with a friction-resistant layer to make it virtually un-climbable. Every hundred feet is an automated turret that can be controlled from the control room. The third layer is a nano-coated polycarbonate sheet that is unbreakable and completely see-through. The inward curve makes it impossible to climb, and the top ten feet will be electrified." Herman Miller, the designer of the new, high-tech prison complex took a step back and gestured with a flourish to the three-dimensional model that hovered in the middle of the room. "So as you can see, it is designed to be quite inescapable."

"Inescapable, huh?" Natasha rose from her seat and folded her arms over her chest, surveying the digital model from all angles. "Those two doors have barely any precautions, and they are the closest to the cell blocks. Those locks could be picked in less than twenty seconds. The layout of the cell blocks needs some work. An escaped prisoner could hide here, here, here, here or here, and evade both cameras and a standard guard patrol." She pointed to the points on the model that she was referring to. "As for the cells themselves….." Bucky watched as the expression on Herman's face went from proudly smug about his design to concerned and crestfallen as she continued, pointing out every single weak point and every way an inmate might exploit them, tearing the design to shreds. When she finished, she sat down, and silence filled the room. The other committee members were exchanging uncomfortable looks.

"What kind of software are you using in the facility?" Tony asked next. "And what safeguards do you have in place for ensure that someone can't simply hack in and override? Do you have a backup generator that would still be functional in the case of an EMP attack? Is your power grid secure from possible cyberattacks?"

"I mean, ah, we have some of those details to work out yet. We, ah, have, I think, four bids on which software to use. I, ah, hadn't thought of a possible EMP attack…" Herman admitted.

"You should," Tony said reprovingly. "These are powerful criminals, with powerful connections and access to incredible resources. The facility needs to be impervious to outside attacks as well as to breakouts from inside."

"Yeah, I mean… I could get a team inside and out again in half an hour," Scott said breezily. Herman gave him an incredulous look. "I mean…. I'm pretty sure," Scott hedged. Herman sighed, his expression defeated.

"I can see I have a great deal of work to do yet," he conceded. He turned towards Bucky, who had not yet given any opinion on the design. "Did you have any, ah, constructive criticism you wanted to contribute?" Bucky contemplated him for a moment, organizing his thoughts. Nyssa had put the bug in his ear, but he found he had some opinions of his own on the matter.

"I do, actually," he said finally. "I see the offices and the cells. I don't see any amenities. Is there anything for them to do? Any space for exercise, or therapies? A library? Or are they just going to be in their cells all day long?" Herman blinked at him.

"So your complaint is that our security measures are… too restrictive? Is that correct?" he asked. Bucky shook his head.

"No, it's that there's no "correction" to the facility. It's a place to hold people. Unless we plan to keep them there until they die, they're going to re-enter society at some point. If all we did was contain them, there's no opportunity to learn anything, which leaves very little room for change. It would be safer and more strategically sound to throw them in cryo for the duration of their sentence, if all we're trying to do is contain them." He couldn't quite keep the bitterness out of his tone. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the look that Natasha shot him, but ignored it. "They may be criminals, but that doesn't mean that's all they'll ever be."

"Barnes, we're not talking about petty thieves," Tony reminded him. "These are some of the most dangerous felons we've ever faced. Most of them probably aren't rehab-able."

"But some of them might be," Bucky argued. "If we're going to treat them all like they can only ever be a villain, then it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy." He paused as his phone buzzed in his pocket. He usually had it on silent, but something was setting off an alert.

"I mean, he's not wrong…" Scott offered after a pregnant pause. Bucky pulled his phone out to check it, and frowned down at the alert on the display. His eyes widened slightly as he realized it was a notification from the uterine emulator. He stood, suddenly aware that all of the eyes in the room were on him.

"Sorry, I have to get home," he announced to the room in general, then turned and walked out.

* * *

He charged through the front door, barely noticing the shopping bags dropped unceremoniously just inside, and sprinted down the hall to the bedroom. Nyssa was already kneeling in the closet next to the emulator. Shuri's image was full-size next to her. Both of them looked up as he paused in the doorway. Nyssa's expression showed relief.

"About time you got here," Shuri exclaimed. "We were almost ready to proceed without you." She glanced back down at Nyssa. "First, you need to input the end cycle code to disable the safety algorithms and tell the machine to begin the final sequence." Nyssa nodded and tapped the code into the control panel. Lights flickered and blinked, and the emulator beeped. Shuri nodded approval. "Okay, now push the two lock release buttons on the top at the same time." Nyssa's fingers quickly found them and pressed. A loud hiss came from the top of the emulator, and pair of handles sprouted from the lid. Nyssa lifted the top off carefully. "Inside, you should feel the chorion," Shuri informed her. Nyssa reached a hand inside and nodded.

"I feel it," she confirmed.

"The chorion and amnion must be ruptured or cut, and then the babies can be removed," Shuri instructed, sounding excited. Nyssa hesitated.

"Can you see to cut it?" she asked, turning towards Bucky. "I don't want to risk hurting them." Unsure of what they were even talking about, Bucky stepped closer. Nyssa pulled a thin membrane away from the outline of the tiny feet below it. "Do you have your knife?" Bucky pulled it out of his pocket and hesitated for a moment. Taking a deep breath, he slid the narrow blade through the membrane. Warm fluid spilled over his hands. He dropped the knife on the floor and pulled the sides apart.

"You should be able to get them out now," Shuri said encouragingly. Bucky reached in and felt a miniature arm and shoulder. Gingerly, he scooped the tiny form out of the canister, then deposited it into Nyssa's outstretched arms. A lusty cry filled the closet as Nyssa clasped the infant to her chest. Bucky eyed the stain spreading across her shirt and took a moment to remove his before reaching into the emulator once again. He ripped the second sac open and cleared the membrane away from a head full of dark curls before lifting the second wet and slippery twin to his chest. Her cry joined her brother's, her tiny, perfect hand clenching on the metal border on his chest. Bucky felt tears prickling at his eyes. Nyssa handed him a soft, clean towel, and he wrapped it around his brand-new daughter's little body. Shuri cheered, dancing in celebration.

"Lovely!" she commented. "I am already en route and should be there in about four hours. If you have any questions, please do not hesitate to call." Her image vanished. Bucky slowly lowered himself down on the floor of the closet, still clasping his newborn to his chest. Her cries had subsided, and she was nuzzling against his chest. Nyssa shifted closer to them, cradling their son in her arms.

"Brooklyn Winnifred, Jameson Steven, welcome to the world," she said softly.

* * *

 **Eeee, the babies are here! Thanks to my most loyal reader/reviewers, Qweb, karina001 and DarylDixon'sLover!**

 **I finally got to see Endgame and have lots of feelings and opinions about it, particularly what they decided to do with Steve's character arc. If anyone wants a discussion or a rant or a vent, feel free to message me!**


	28. Rearrangements

**Disclaimer: Marvel Characters are property of Marvel. Original Characters are mine. Just for fun, not for profit.**

* * *

 **Rearrangements**

Well before Shuri arrived, Nyssa abandoned any thought of bothering with a shirt. She made a nest in their bed with blankets and pillows and sat back with the two babies nestled against her. They both latched successfully, nursing enthusiastically. Nyssa was delighted at their success and chagrined to find that it was initially quite painful, though the discomfort tended to ease after a minute or so. Darshan had taken up his post at the foot of the bed, whining slightly as he watched the babies clinging to his mistress. Bucky alternated between sitting by them on the bed and running to get Nyssa whatever she needed. Next to her on the nightstand was a large glass of water, a variety of snacks and the empty plate that he had served her dinner on.

"Look," she whispered. "They're both asleep." She turned her face towards Bucky. "Do you want to take one of them?" He leaned over and gingerly took the baby closest to him, careful to support both the head and the bottom. Jameson was still curled up, legs tucked against his belly and arms pulled in. He made a little sighing noise as Bucky pulled him in closer, cradling the newborn against his chest. He could feel his son's heartbeat, fluttering faster than he expected, and the tiny ribs that shifted ever so slightly to make space for the diminutive lungs underneath. He stared down at his metal hand resting against the curve of the tiny infant head, the hand that was capable of so much death and destruction, instead cradling softly the fragile new life. He suddenly felt a little overwhelmed at this responsibility that had been entrusted to him, that Nyssa insisted he and no other was perfect for. He wasn't certain that he agreed with her, but he resolved that he would do his damndest to try.

Darshan let out a soft whuff and got up, trotting out of the room.

"Shuri's here," Nyssa noted softly. Bucky carefully laid Jameson back on the bed, then went to answer the door. Shuri grinned at him brightly, almost bouncing up and down in her palpable excitement. In one hand, she carried something that vaguely resembled a suitcase, but Bucky was certain there was more to it.

"Am I the first one?" she asked conspiratorially, her eyes dancing. "Tell me I'm the first to come see them." Bucky nodded.

"We haven't told anyone else yet," he assured her. "Come on, they're in the bedroom." Her grin broadened, and she followed him down the hallway. Nyssa smiled brightly at Shuri, who held her arms out. "Let me see my babies!" she requested enthusiastically. Nyssa grinned and climbed out of bed, transferring a slumbering Brooklyn into Shuri's waiting arms before pulling on her robe. She winced slightly as her injured hand brushed against the material. Shuri frowned.

"Are you hurt?" she asked. Nyssa waved her hand dismissively, though without any dressing or gloves, the rough and reddened skin was more obvious.

"It's just taking longer to heal than I'd like," she replied. Shuri wrinkled her nose at her.

"We will get that taken care of as soon as I check my babies out," she assured her. Holding her luggage out at arm's length, she pressed a button on the top. It transformed itself into a hovering bed, complete with Wakandan medical display. Shuri gently unswaddled and set the sleeping baby gently down onto it and regarded the readouts impassively.

"3.85 kilos, in good health," she announced with a grin.

"Does she need a shot of Vitamin K or anything?" Nyssa asked. Shuri shook her head.

"She should have gotten that as part of the final sequence," she assured her. She brought Brooklyn back to Nyssa, then picked up Jameson and placed him on the medical bed. "3.7 kilos. Congratulations, you have two perfectly healthy babies. Or I do. But I suppose I'll let you keep them." She gave them both a teasing grin. Bucky raised an eyebrow at her.

"We did have a little something to do with creating them," he reminded her.

"Yes, you did contribute your genetic material," she agreed. Reaching into a compartment under the bed, she took out two small jars. She unscrewed the top of the first one and brought it over to Nyssa. "Let me see your hand," she instructed. Nyssa held it out, her expression slightly guilty. Shuri scooped a small dollop of a dark salve out of the jar and rubbed it into the angry and injured skin on Nyssa's palm. Nyssa's eyebrows rose in surprise.

"That… takes the pain away pretty much immediately," she noted. Shuri nodded.

"Let that stay on overnight, and it should be healed up by morning," she advised her. Nyssa nodded.

"Thank you so much," Nyssa breathed. Shuri held up the second jar.

"Mix this powder with something and drink it," she instructed. "I recommend a tea, but really it can be mixed in whatever you like."

"Coffee?" Nyssa suggested. Shuri shrugged.

"If you like."

"What will that do for her?" Bucky inquired.

"It will tell her milk to come in," Shuri informed him. He frowned.

"Doesn't she have that already?" he asked, confused. If she had no milk, what had the babies been eating?

"No, that is colostrum," Shuri corrected him. "That is all they need for now. Usually, it is the birth process that triggers the body to switch over to full milk, but absent that trigger, this will do the same thing." Nyssa nodded and took the jar from Shuri.

"How much and how often?" she asked. Shuri shrugged.

"That is up to you, but you will need to consume the entire contents of that jar," she directed.

"Okay," Nyssa acknowledged. Shuri nodded definitively.

"One last order of business, then," she mused, half to herself, as she crossed their room. "You will have your closet back."

"We didn't clean out the canister," Bucky warned her. After they had clipped the umbilical cords, they had just thrown them back into the bloody sludge. Shuri nodded.

"Good. I want to keep all of it. You want me too, as well. That is a gold mine for stem cells and genetic material. I will preserve it for you, in case you need it in the future," she informed them. "As for the unit itself, I am giving a presentation at the International Congress of Obstetrics and Gynecology next month. I am very pleased I will be able to present a proven, working unit. Do you mind if I use them as a case study? I will not use any identifying information."

"Ah… sure. I guess," Bucky replied somewhat hesitantly. Shuri grinned in delight, then disappeared into the closet.

* * *

Shuri held the babies for a little longer, but left when Jameson's diaper started smelling suspicious, taking all her equipment with her. Brooklyn stirred, mouthing her tiny clenched fist, and Nyssa shot Bucky a rueful grin.

"She's getting hungry again. Guess you're on diaper duty, Daddy," she said, pulling Brooklyn into her chest and wincing as the baby latched on. Bucky made a face at her.

"Right this minute?" he asked dubiously. "He's still sleeping."

"He'll be waking up soon," she assured him. As if on cue, Jameson stirred, his face turning red and contorting as he mustered a cry. Bucky hastily picked him up and carried him to the nursery, where the changing table was. He hadn't changed diapers in a long time. He had distant memories of helping his mother with his sisters on rare occasions. Nowadays, there were no safety pins involved, but it still involved cleaning up foul-smelling goo from delicate skin. It did not help that Jameson screamed the entire time. Hopefully, he would get faster at this with more practice. He carried the now-clean but still fussing baby back to his wife, who reached for her son eagerly. She laid back with a sigh as he joined his sister.

"So, just out of curiosity, are we or are we not going to use the cribs that I made?" he asked, trying to keep his tone light.

"We'll try them out tonight," Nyssa promised. A knock on the door prompted another bark from Darshan, and Bucky frowned as he went to answer. He opened the door to see Elijah with a bundle of balloons, a pair of gifts wrapped in pastels, and a casserole dish. He looked up at Bucky hopefully.

"Nyssa sent me a text that I was a grandpa. I wanted to come meet them. If that's okay," he said, the statement sounding more like a question. Bucky stepped back to let him enter.

"Hey, Doll, Elijah's here to visit," he called over his shoulder. He wasn't certain she should be entertaining guests in their bedroom, or if she wanted her honorary father visiting with everything all hanging out, so to speak.

"You can bring him back," she replied. Bucky gestured for the man to follow, and led him back to the bedroom. He was somewhat relieved to see that Nyssa was covered up again, with both babies back to sleep against her chest. Elijah smiled and moved to deposit the gifts and balloons on the bed. Bucky intercepted the casserole dish and brought it out to the kitchen to stash for later. There was another knock on the door, and he sighed. He opened the door to the Clint and Laura. Cooper, Lila and Gabriele crowded behind them, with Nate and Grace running to catch up. None of their hands were empty, bearing gifts and food. He raised his eyebrows.

"Congratulations, Bucky," Laura said with a warm smile. "Is now a good time to visit?"

"Uh, sure. I guess. Come on in." Bucky stepped back to let the entire clan into his apartment. The food offerings he retrieved as they went past him. _Incoming, Nyssa,_ he sent just ahead of their visitors.

 _Thanks for the heads up,_ she replied. He had just finished stashing the last dish in the freezer when he heard yet another knock. This time, Micaela had her husband Cameron in tow, along with their four children. Bucky waved them back towards the bedroom and found himself once again laden with dishes full of food. They vanished down the hall, and Bucky shook his head. By the time he stashed the last dish, the noise in the bedroom had risen to the point where he could hear it from the kitchen. He went back to investigate, and paused in the doorway. Nyssa had a shirt back on and was chatting with Micaela. Laura was holding Jameson, while Lila cooed over Brooklyn with Gabriele peeking over her shoulder. Clint and Cameron had taken up post near Elijah, hanging near the outskirts of the impromptu gathering. Bucky made his way over to then. He didn't know Cameron very well, but the man nodded to him politely while Clint clapped him on the shoulder.

"Congrats, man," Clint said, "Welcome to fatherhood." Bucky nodded to him.

"Thanks," he said, glancing around the room. It was a little overwhelming, having so many people crowded into one room. "Ah, you guys want to come out to the living room? I think I might have a few beers in the fridge." They followed him out gratefully.

* * *

"….and there was Nate, sleeper off, digging in his diaper and fingerpainting all over the wall with his own shit." Clint grinned as Cameron and Elijah groaned sympathetically while Bucky grimaced.

"So that's what I have to look forward to, huh?" he remarked. Clint chuckled.

"I mean, at the time it's not so funny," he admitted. "But it gives you some great stories to tell later. Like at their graduation, or when they start dating…" Clint took another swig of his beer while the other men laughed.

"Hey, don't you mention dating," Cameron rejoined good-naturedly. "I'm not ready for Mackenzie to realize boys don't have cooties yet." Bucky raised an eyebrow at him.

"Isn't she almost sixteen?" he recalled. Cameron nodded. "I'm no expert, but I'm pretty sure that's past the, ah, "cootie" stage." Cameron sighed.

"I know," he admitted. "I'm just still not ready for it yet." Bucky was distracted by a cool, damp nose nudging his hand, and he stroked Darshan's head automatically before glancing down at the dog. Darshan whined slightly.

"I know, buddy," Bucky agreed. "There's a lot going on here. Do you need to go out?" Darshan got up and ran to the door, sat and waited, watching the door expectantly. Bucky half-smiled and glanced apologetically to Elijah, Clint and Cameron. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

* * *

Darshan took his time sniffing around on the grounds, and Bucky didn't mind the reprieve. With a jacket and baseball cap on, he was less likely to be hassled by passersby than when he was in uniform, at least. The night was cool, with a slight breeze that carried the smells of the city intermixed with springtime and growing things. By the time they got back up to the apartment, Cameron and Micaela were herding their children back out into the hallway. Micaela waved to Bucky.

"She was starting to look tired, so we're leaving. Call if you guys need any help, though," she offered. Bucky nodded and waved back. He took Darshan's leash off and hung it on its hook next to the door. The apartment was startlingly quiet compared to how loud it had been when he left. Apparently, the others had left as well. He went back to the bedroom and found it empty, but he could feel that she was still close by. He found her in the nursery, sitting in the rocking chair with both babies cradled against her. Both infants were curled towards each other like a pair of quotation marks. She smiled over at him, and he could see the traces of fatigue on her face.

"How are you doing, mommy?" he asked softly. Nyssa's expression turned thoughtful for a moment before answering.

"It's starting to feel real," she noted. "They're really here, and they're ours. I almost kept expecting someone to come get them." Bucky nodded; he had occasionally had the same feeling. It was still a little surreal. He heard another knock on the door and groaned out loud.

"I'm going to go tell them to come back tomorrow," he said resolutely. "We've had enough visitors for today."

"Oh, let them in," Nyssa disagreed. "It's Sera and Steve." Bucky reconsidered. He wouldn't mind a quieter visit, and Steve wouldn't be as boisterous as the others had been. He also had been looking forward to seeing his oldest friend.

"All right," he relented. "But they'll need to keep it short." He went to answer the door. He had no sooner opened the door than he found himself wrapped up in a warm hug. He blinked at Sera in surprise, taken aback by the unexpected display of affection.

"Congratulations, I'm so happy for you guys!" she exclaimed into his shoulder. He hesitantly returned the embrace. Steve smiled at his friend.

"Sorry it's so late," he apologized. "Sera made me promise not to come without her, but then she was at the office… later than she intended." Sera let Bucky go and smiled apologetically.

"Gotta stay on top of those civil rights violations, or they'll think they can get away with it," she opined. Bucky conceded her point with a raised eyebrow and a tilt of his head. "Is she in the bedroom?"

"The nursery," he corrected. Seraphina nodded and vanished down the hallway. Steve clapped Bucky on the shoulder.

"I always imagined we'd be here someday, Buck," he said warmly, then smiled ruefully. "I guess I didn't imagine it quite like this."

"Me, neither," Bucky admitted. "But we made it."

"I half expected you to be handing out cigars," Steve noted. Bucky chuckled softly and shook his head.

"Not around the babies. She wouldn't allow it. Apparently, smoking is terrible for you," he pointed out with a smirk. Steve nodded. "Do you want to come meet them?" he offered. He didn't wait for Steve's response before heading in that direction, expecting his friend to follow.

"Hello, Brooklyn Winnifred… is it Barnes? Or Taylor?" Seraphina asked, Brooklyn cradled in her arms. Nyssa grinned.

"Brooklyn Winnifred Taylor-Barnes," she answered. Sera looked surprised, glancing over at Bucky as he and Steve entered the room. Then she grinned down at the infant.

"You've got a name almost bigger than you are," she noted. Brooklyn burbled and reached a tiny hand up to bump against Seraphina's chin. Sera looked startled, but then giggled. Nyssa chuckled and stood, handing Jameson over to Steve.

"And this is Jameson Steven Taylor-Barnes," she said by way of introduction. Steve's face registered touched surprise as he realized he was holding his namesake.

"Wow, Buck, Nyss, I don't know what to say…" Steve said softly. Jameson regarded Steve calmly with curious grey eyes. Bucky clapped Steve on the back.

"Say whatever you like, he's too young to understand it yet," Bucky joked. Nyssa laughed and kissed Bucky on the cheek.

"I'm going to go mix up that tea Shuri brought for me," she explained. "I'll be back in a bit." Bucky nodded at her. Steve was still looking intently at the infant that shared his name.

"He looks like you, Buck," he noted. Bucky shrugged.

"A little," he agreed. "But Nyssa's there, too. Thankfully." Steve shot him an amused look.

"Brooklyn does, too," Seraphina pointed out, bringing the other twin over and holding her up for comparison. They looked less alike than Bucky had expected, despite both having dark hair. Aside from minor differences in their noses and face shape, Brooklyn's eyes were startlingly blue while Jameson's were a dark, cloudy grey. As soon as they brought them closer together, Jameson stirred, turning his face towards his sister with a little grunt. Brooklyn's arm reached clumsily towards her brother. "Oh, look at that!" Seraphina breathed. "They're already attached to each other. How sweet."

"So they'll be getting into mischief together, too," Steve guessed. He gave Bucky a sideways glance. "I'm guessing you're in trouble."

"The best kind of trouble, Steve," Bucky agreed. Sera grinned at him and stepped back with Brooklyn.

"You don't know yet how lucky you are, Brooklyn," she cooed to the baby. "You have the best parents, and the most awesome auntie ever." Bucky glanced at her in surprise once more. While she wasn't outright rude to him, she wasn't generally so forthright with compliments. He had no idea she held him in such high esteem.

"Are you feeling okay?" he asked her. She gave him a bemused glance.

"I'm fine, why?" she replied.

"You're actually being nice to me," he pointed out. "And you haven't called me Jimmy once." Seraphina laughed.

"I guess I figure I can cut you a little slack," she admitted. "I don't know if you realize what this means to her. It was the one thing she always wanted, that she knew she could never have." She looked down at Brooklyn and smiled, her voice taking on the playful tone that people seemed to automatically assume when they talked to a baby. "And you gave that to her." She made faces at Brooklyn, who reached out and grabbed her nose, eliciting chuckles from all the adults present. Bucky glanced over at Steve, who was watching Sera with the baby with a slightly wistful smile on his face. He looked over at Bucky, realizing that he was watching him, and his smile widened.

"I'm really happy for you, Buck," he said sincerely. Nyssa reappeared in the doorway, clutching a large mug. She crossed over to stand next to Bucky, who automatically put his arm around her. He looked around the room and felt his heart expand.

* * *

He awakened while it was still dark outside, but the bed empty again. Darshan was fast asleep in his bed at the foot of theirs. The clock told him it was nearly four AM. He thought he felt her close by, so he got up to investigate. He glanced in the nursery but didn't see her moving around the room or in the rocking chair. Prowling down the hall, he checked the kitchen and the bathroom, but she wasn't there, either. Frowning, he went back to investigate the nursery again. He was all the way in the room before he spotted her, sitting on the floor on the far side of the first crib, one hand stretched between the slats, fast asleep against the wall. Brooklyn had her tiny fist wrapped around Nyssa's finger, and Jameson was curled up next to his sister. Bucky crouched down beside his wife, waking her with a soft touch on her shoulder. She stirred and opened her eyes, mustering an exhausted smile.

 _Don't wake them,_ she pleaded in his mind. _I just got them both to sleep about twenty minutes ago. Every time I try to leave, they wake up._ He raised his eyebrows at her.

 _Well, you can't sleep like this all night,_ he responded.

 _I could crawl into the crib with them,_ she suggested. _I was almost ready to try that anyway._ Bucky glanced into the crib at the soundly sleeping swaddled infants.

 _They look pretty fast asleep now,_ he noted. Nyssa quirked an eyebrow at him and withdrew her hand. Immediately, Brooklyn stirred and began to fuss. Beside her, Jameson made a small whimpering noise. Nyssa returned her finger to Brooklyn's fist, and she immediately quieted. Jameson sighed, but didn't open his eyes.

 _Won't they learn to sleep on their own if you just let them?_ He thought he remembered something about crying being good for babies from his childhood, but he also recalled some of the books Nyssa had given him saying that it was bad.

 _You mean if you let them cry until they lose hope that anyone will come for them, and stop crying?_ Nyssa raised her eyebrows at him, the emotions swirling around her response making it clear what her opinion was of that option. Bucky sighed.

 _Well, you can't get any sleep this way,_ he pointed out. _So how do we solve this?_

 _I have an idea._ Using the crib to pull herself to her feet, she reached in and lifted Brooklyn slowly and gently. She took a step closer to Bucky and set the sleeping infant against his chest. His hands came up automatically to hold her close. She scrunched up her face, and for a moment he thought she was going to start crying, but instead she turned her head and burrowed into him. With Jameson in arms, Nyssa padded sleepily back down the hall and into their room. Turning her back to the bed, she pushed against the post with her back.

"Help me push the bed against the wall," she whispered. Bucky was confused, but not about to start an argument at four in the morning with his sleep-deprived wife. They slid the bed over against the wall. Nyssa pushed the covers and pillows over to the other side of the bed with one arm, leaving the side nearest the wall bare. Seemingly satisfied, she climbed into the bed. She set Jameson down next to her, then stretched her arms towards Bucky, who handed Brooklyn over wordlessly. Nyssa settled both infants on the mattress next to her, then curled up protectively around them. Bucky climbed back into bed beside her.

"This is just for tonight, right?" he murmured.

"Mm," Nyssa replied faintly. Bucky looked over at her and shook his head slightly as he realized she had already fallen asleep.

* * *

 **Thanks to DarylDixon'sLover, heleana1, LadyAmazon, karina001, Qweb and guest for your reviews! I'm so excited about these babies. They are bound to make things interesting.**


	29. Short Nights, Long Days

**Disclaimer: Marvel Characters are property of Marvel. Original Characters are mine. Just for fun, not for profit.**

* * *

 **Short Nights, Long Days**

After the fitful night, Bucky slept later than he typically did. The sun was already up when he rolled out of bed. Nyssa was still asleep curled up on her side, with both babies asleep in the cove of her body, tiny arms entwined. He smiled at the sight, then ventured out to the kitchen to prepare something for breakfast. He decided pancakes sounded good and began assembling ingredients. He had just finished whisking everything together when a loud moan from the bedroom brought him back to investigate. Nyssa was sitting up in the bed, hands cupped around her breasts with a pained expression on her face.

"Do they look bigger?" she asked, her tone distressed. "They feel gigantic." Bucky's eyes widened. They had more than doubled in size overnight, looking… rather impressive, actually, given Nyssa's small frame.

"Ah… yes. They are definitely bigger," he agreed.

"I guess Shuri's tea worked as intended," Nyssa concluded. "But holy cow, I didn't expect it to be so uncomfortable. Come on, babies, you need to help your mama out." She picked up the nearest sleeping infant and cradled her to her breast. Brooklyn latched without opening her eyes, and Nyssa first winced, then sighed.

"I thought I'd make pancakes," Bucky informed her. Her expression brightened.

"That sounds wonderful," she sighed. "But I'm not sure I'll be able to make it to the table anytime soon."

"I can bring some in for you," he offered. He glanced over at Jameson, still sleeping at Nyssa's side. "Are you sure it's safe to have them in bed with us? Couldn't you roll over and…" He trailed off, not wanting to complete the sentence. Nyssa shook her head.

"I was doing research last night," she informed him, touching the interface tucked behind her ear. "Since there's not a lot else to do when you're up walking the floor with restless babies. It's possible to bedshare safely, as long as you follow the safe sleep rules." She held up a hand and ticked them off on her fingers. "No smoking, parents not under the influence of any substances, breastfeeding mom, healthy baby, lightly dressed, on their backs and a safe sleep surface, which means no extra toys or pillows, firm mattress, and keep blankets away from their faces." She shrugged. "You know I wouldn't do anything that would harm them. Believe me, I am aware of them the entire time."

"So, were you thinking of making this a permanent arrangement?" Bucky asked skeptically.

"Permanent, no. They're not going to still be sleeping with us as adults," Nyssa said cheekily. Bucky raised an eyebrow at her.

"You know what I meant," he replied archly. Nyssa sighed.

"I know that I am more comfortable when they are close by," she admitted. "I don't know that I want them in a different room. But we can try some different arrangements to see what works best for us. You need to be fully on board, too. There's two of them and two of us, so this is going to be a team effort."

"Having them in our bed will make… other activities… more difficult," Bucky pointed out. Nyssa smirked at him.

"You say that like you've never bent me over the couch before," she teased him.

"Hey," he replied, pointing a finger at the nursing Brooklyn. "Cover her ears when you say shit like that." Nyssa put a hand over the baby's ear and shot him a mock-scandalized look.

"Language," she reminded him. With a chuckle, Bucky went back to the kitchen.

* * *

The next few weeks were filled with laughter, touching moments and challenges. It took them about a week to come up with a nighttime plan that worked for everyone. Having the twins sleep in their cribs all but guaranteed that Nyssa spent the majority of the night out of bed, and Bucky was sleeping alone. Putting a mattress on the floor of the nursery helped her get more sleep, but he preferred having her in their room. Bringing the babies into bed with them kept Bucky up most of the night, afraid to fall asleep and roll over on them. Finally, he found a bedside bassinette that kept them within Nyssa's reach, and they all finally got more than a couple hours of sleep. So that was one problem solved. They were not only figuring out new sleeping arrangements, but also adjusting their entire lives around the two tiny humans who had arrived. There was a lot of walking the floors, many sleep-deprived discussions, multiple pots of coffee, several slightly panicked trips to the store, mountains of tiny soiled clothes, and the diapers. So many diapers. Not that it didn't have its perks, too. Unless they had guests over, Nyssa didn't bother with a shirt. It had taken Bucky by surprise the first few days, as she was typically a rather modest person, but he grew to enjoy having her walk around the apartment in nothing but her yoga pants. She often was wearing the babies instead, using the cloth Shuri had given her to secure one or both to her torso, and some days it seemed they nursed constantly. But she was still showing more skin than he was accustomed to. He appreciated it.

Equally thrilling, but for different reasons, was the realization that, as new as they were, the twins already had distinct personalities. Brooklyn was typically the more vocal of the two, making frequent burbles and coos when she was awake, and quick to cry when she was uncomfortable, or when this new, strange world was overwhelming. In contrast, Jameson seemed content to watch everything around him. Light patterns on the walls, the pattern of Darshan's fur, any of the brightly colored toys, and especially faces seemed to capture his attention. Which wasn't to say that he never cried, but it seemed less frequent and less intense than his sister. Not that either of them seemed to fuss for long. Nyssa was particularly adept at discerning what they needed and getting them settled.

The non-human members of the household had to adjust as well. Darshan had been a watchful guardian over the babies, lying nearby when they were on the floor, and following Nyssa around the apartment when she was carrying them. Balaur seemed not to notice that the household had expanded, aside from being put out that he was no longer allowed to fly around the apartment at his leisure. Bucky tried to keep him occupied with extra food scraps and shiny baubles to play with, and occasionally let him out to stretch his wings when the babies were sleeping and he could supervise him closely. The little dragonette had sharp teeth, and his unpredictable breaths of flame had become larger recently. It wasn't something Bucky was willing to risk.

The food that had been brought over by their friends certainly came in handy. Bucky had never seen Nyssa have such an appetite. Usually, he had to remind her to eat, but now she had taken to rummaging through the fridge several times a day, and every plate that he brought to her was scraped clean. Occasionally, she even requested seconds, which was unprecedented. It amused him, and it made sense considering that she was eating for three people. The babies seemed to be thriving. They didn't have the rolls of chubby baby fat that he remembered his sisters having, but that might have been because they were growing so fast. After a month, they had both gained nearly four and a half pounds and more than two inches in length. Sometimes it seemed like they were visibly bigger in the morning after going to sleep for the night. The three-month baby clothes they had started with were already growing tight.

The first week had been filled with friends coming to visit, excited to meet the babies. It was almost overwhelming. As time went on, visits were more sporadic, which Bucky found himself grateful for. It was hard enough adjusting to the new normal without having to entertain guests.

* * *

Nyssa abruptly stood up from the couch, setting Brooklyn down momentarily on the cushion as she grabbed her shirt from the arm of the sofa beside her. Brooklyn protested. Nyssa began to sing a nursery rhyme, making faces at the baby as she shrugged into the garment before picking the baby girl up again. Brooklyn's protests turned to giggles. Bucky smiled at the sound. He was only mildly surprised when, a moment later, a knock came at their door. He glanced over at Nyssa expectantly. "It's Tony," she informed him. With a nod, he went to answer, Jameson cradled in one arm.

"Hey, Tony," he greeted him. Tony's expression had been exasperated initially, but softened as Jameson waved a fist, contemplating him seriously.

"Bucky," he said, inclining his head towards him. "How's fatherhood treating you?" Bucky half-smiled.

"Not a lot of sleep, but plenty of… other rewards," he said, thinking of sweet sleeping baby faces, first smiles and tiny heads resting against his chest and shoulder. "It's kind of… new territory." Tony nodded.

"I know exactly what you mean," he agreed. "Is this a good time?" Bucky stepped back and gestured for Tony to enter. Tony strolled in. "Good morning, Nyssa."

"Good morning, Tony. Here to see the babies, or did you have other business?" she inquired. Tony shrugged.

"Other business can wait," he said dismissively, stretching his arms out towards the infant in Nyssa's arms. "Does Jameson want to see his Uncle Tony?" Nyssa chuckled.

"I don't know, but Brooklyn would like to," she replied, handing over the infant. Tony frowned slightly, but then cradled Brooklyn in one arm.

"Well, hello, Miss Brooklyn," Tony said in a high-pitched, silly voice. Brooklyn gurgled and reached up to grab Tony's beard. Tony chuckled. "Did your mommy pick your clothes this morning?"

"No, I did," Bucky said, nonplussed at Tony's comment. "Why?"

"I just thought… some interesting color choices, that's all," Tony commented. Bucky frowned.

"Blue for girls, pink for boys, right?" he said. He was pretty sure that's how he remembered it from when his sisters were small. Most of the clothing Nyssa had selected were solid colors, without frills or lace or cute sayings that would give clues one way or the other. Nyssa chuckled from the couch.

"That custom changed after World War II, but don't worry about it," she assured him. "It's just marketing, and they're just colors. I'm sure the blue onesie matches her eyes perfectly."

"Right, and the hot pink on Jameson is stunning," Tony agreed blandly, gesturing towards the infant Bucky held. He bounced Brooklyn up and down a few times. "It's been awhile since Aaron was this small, but she seems… bigger than I expected."

"According to Shuri, they're maintaining their accelerated rate of development," Nyssa confirmed. Tony's eyebrows rose, and he whistled.

"Wow," he commented. "That's impressive." Brooklyn grabbed onto his finger, pulling it closer to her face. "As is her grip. How is someone so tiny that strong already?" Bucky shrugged.

"It's not like they did any studies of the effects of the serum on child development," he pointed out.

"No, I guess that's what you two are doing," Tony pointed out dryly. "Technically."

"You mentioned you had other business?" Bucky reminded him. "Technically." Tony nodded and handed Brooklyn back to Nyssa.

"Right." He turned to face Bucky. "I'm here – officially – to inquire when you are returning to active status as an Avenger. Both of you, I suppose." He gestured his arm to include Nyssa in the question. "And also, Double Helix wants you to go in and do some voice recordings for their game. They mentioned they might have to find someone else to record your part if you aren't going to be able soon." Bucky sighed. He had intended to take just the first week off, but no world-ending crises had come up, Nyssa still needed him at home, and it was harder to leave the babies than he had thought it would be. So he kept putting it off.

"I can be back," he conceded, glancing over at Nyssa. "Starting tomorrow." Tony nodded approvingly.

"Well, that's a relief, because we're due to meet with the National Security Council tomorrow," he reminded him. Bucky sighed. He hadn't missed those meetings at all. Tony turned towards Nyssa. "And you, Dr. Taylor?" She shook her head.

"I think I'll be out for quite awhile yet, Tony," she replied. He nodded, his expression unsurprised.

"Very good," he declared. He pointed his finger at Bucky. "See you tomorrow, then."

* * *

As if sensing the impending change the next morning, the twins were restless and fussy most of the night. They alternated their waking, leaving only twenty to thirty-minute periods of quiet in between. By the time the sun rose, Nyssa's head was throbbing from fatigue, and Bucky groaned as he rolled out of bed to prepare for the day. By the time he got out of the shower, Nyssa was moving around the kitchen in a zombie-like daze. He paused and watched as she poured herself a cup of fresh, hot coffee, added a small dash of creamer, stirred it in, then returned the coffee carafe to the refrigerator, leaving the creamer sitting out on the counter. He retrieved the coffee carafe, put the creamer back in the refrigerator, and raised his eyebrows at his wife.

"Are you sure you can handle it on your own today?" he asked. "Last night was rough." Nyssa nodded, taking a sip of her coffee.

"I just need to let the caffeine kick in," she breathed.

"Alternatively, you could go back to bed, now that they're finally sleeping," Bucky suggested.

"I wanted to make you breakfast and see you off for the day," Nyssa said ruefully.

"And I appreciate that," Bucky replied, putting his hands on her shoulders and guiding her back towards the bedroom. "But I am a grown man, and I can fend for myself. You need more sleep more than I need someone to cook me breakfast." Nyssa did not fight him as he steered her back towards the bed.

"You're right," she sighed. She paused in the doorway and turned to face him. "At least let me kiss you good-bye," she whispered, keeping her voice quiet so as not to wake the babies. Bucky pulled her in close and kissed her thoroughly. She sagged against him for a moment, burying her face in his chest. Then, with an effort, she released him, and crept back into the bed. She was asleep in moments. Bucky watched the three of them slumber, wishing he could stay. Instead, he got dressed and left.

* * *

"I'm so glad you and Petra could come for a visit today, Wanda," Nyssa said sincerely, handing the other woman a fresh cup of coffee. "I'll admit, I was a little nervous about my first day solo with them." Wanda smiled warmly at her.

"I remember my first afternoon solo with Petra. I think I might have cried a couple times," she admitted. "And you have twins. You must be exhausted."

"Just a bit," Nyssa said dryly. "I'm basically running on caffeine sheer willpower today." Wanda chuckled softly.

"I've had a few days like that myself," she sympathized. She looked down at where Petra was playing on the carpet, just a couple feet away from where the twins were lying. Brooklyn was on her tummy, staring in fascination at a brightly-colored stuffed octopus set about a foot away from her face. Jameson was on his back, staring up at the quilted animals hanging from the arches of the activity gym. "Are you ever tempted to, ah, 'help' them go to sleep? Since you can?" Wanda asked. Nyssa shrugged.

"Tempted, sure," she conceded. "But their brains are still developing. I don't know what effect that kind of manipulation would have. The last thing I want to do is condition them so that they can't fall asleep without me… 'helping' them." She raised an eyebrow at Wanda. "Have you?" Wanda chuckled.

"That's one skill I haven't exactly mastered. I don't think I should practice it on her." She looked lovingly over at Petra, who was sitting up playing with a set of soft blocks. "I'm not entirely sure it would work, either." She watched her thoughtfully. Petra held up a soft pyramidal block with black and white patterns on two sides and a light blue textured cloth on the other sides. She wrinkled her little brow in concentration, and a soft golden glow surrounded it. The pyramid began to shake and spin, then with a little pop, a second, duplicate pyramid appeared beside the first. Petra giggled in delight and clapped her hands as the blocks spun around each other in the air before her. Nyssa raised her eyebrows.

"Is she….?" She asked. Wanda sighed.

"Only eight months old, and she can already duplicate anything she touches," she confirmed. "She also has inherited her father's tendency to go through walls, though her control is still a bit shaky."

"I bet that keeps you on your toes," Nyssa commented. Wanda grinned at her.

"It does keep life interesting," she agreed. "Though I have a feeling yours are going to be a challenge, too." She gestured towards the carpet. "If I'm not mistaken, Brooklyn just rolled herself over."

* * *

Starting his first day returning to work with a meeting with the National Security Council was a little like jumping into the deep end of the pool to get his feet wet. Tony brought him up to speed on everything he'd missed in the past month, but a quick debrief didn't capture all the nuance of the politics. Thankfully, with Tony there, they didn't expect him to talk much, so he just listened instead.

After the meeting, he had Tony drop him off at Double Helix to check if he had missed his chance to be included in their project. He had been half-prepared to argue with them about it, but it turned out that wasn't necessary. They were relieved that he still wanted to be involved. He signed a revised contract, and then several autographs at their request. It still seemed strange to him that somebody would want that from someone like him, but life was surreal in many ways at times. He left with copies of the script that they wanted him to look over for his recording session for next week. He had a script for Nyssa, too, and promised he would have her touch base with them soon.

It was a short walk from their office to the subway. With a jacket on that covered up his most recognizable feature, he didn't attract too much attention. He settled onto the train and began to read through his script. He was only a few pages in when there was a deafening explosion, and he found himself tipping backwards. The lights flickered and went out to a chorus of screams from injured and frightened travelers. He pulled himself up on a pole to look out a window on the other side, and caught a glimpse of shadowy figures, then a flash of blinding light. The train car exploded around him, and everything went black.

* * *

 **Thanks to my commenters and my readers! Love to you all!**


	30. A Dish Served Cold

**Disclaimer: Marvel Characters are property of Marvel. Original Characters are mine. Just for fun, not for profit.**

 **Note: Power Man is an alias of Luke Cage, but that is a separate character. Luke Cage does not appear in this chapter. Power Man was also a Marvel supervillain. Power Man, Whirlwind, Laser and Count Nefaria are all property of Marvel Comics.**

* * *

 **A Dish Served Cold**

It was still dark when Bucky opened his eyes again. His head pounded, and a great weight was upon him, pressing him down. He groaned and tried to move experimentally. The metal pinning him down creaked and shifted. He pushed more purposefully, and with a screech of protest, the wreckage gave way. Suddenly, a flash of light lit up the tunnel and the subway car bright as day, showing him the destruction around him. The car was on its side, and one wall almost completely obliterated. Around him, battered and broken bodies were strewn through the bloodstained wreckage, though whether they were dead or unconscious wasn't clear. The flash of light vanished, leaving him in the dark once again, but he had gotten enough of a look to orient himself. He checked the still forms nearest him and muttered an oath when he couldn't find a pulse. Further ahead, in the next car, he could hear sobs and cries for help. Towards the back of the car, he could hear someone on the phone with emergency services. Good, the police and paramedics would arrive. He wished he knew how long he had been unconscious. There was an unnatural wind beginning to howl through the tunnel, though he didn't have the faintest idea where it could be coming from. He had to get a better look to find out what was going on. Using handrails and twisted seats, he climbed out of the overturned train car and boosted himself up onto the scorched side to get a better view of the damage. The car in front of his had taken the brunt of the attack, but none of the cars he could see appeared unscathed. He fished his phone out of his pocket to alert the rest of the Avengers, but the wind was growing in velocity and fury, and he had to grab desperately at a twisted metal fragment of the train to keep from being blown off his perch. His phone slipped from his fingers and was whisked away into the darkness. He dropped his weight back down into the shelter of the car wreckage, peering over the side, his hair whipping in the gale. As abruptly as the wind had started, it stopped, and Bucky nearly dropped back down to where he had started with its sudden absence. Pulling himself up, he glimpsed three shadows moving in the darkness, vanishing down the tunnel. Making a split-second decision, he jumped down beside the wrecked subway train and followed them.

"Idiot," the largest of the shadows grumbled as Bucky got within earshot. "We were just supposed to take the transphasic stabilizing unit, not loot the entire train."

"Who's the idiot?" the second man countered. He was carrying a large knapsack, while the third man carried a rectangular case with a handle. "If we just took the stabilizing unit, they would figure out exactly what we were after. Now, it just looks like the train got robbed. Besides, Nefaria mentioned he needed more funds." Bucky's eyes widened at the mention of the familiar name. The big man snorted and shook his head.

"Fine. Just don't throw me under the bus if he's pissed about it. It was your idea." He made a circular gesture, his hand leaving a trail of light hanging in the air. Once the circle was completed, the tunnel was flooded with blue light, and an oval-shaped portal hung in the air before them. The three men disappeared into it. Bucky took a deep breath. Either the trail ended here, with very little extra information, or he was going to have to do something Steve-level stupid. The portal began to shrink, forcing the decision. Breaking into a sprint, he dove through it.

* * *

He landed on a hardwood floor and rolled. He was suddenly indoors, in a house he didn't recognize. Thankfully, the hallway he found himself in was not very well lit. He darted behind a tall cabinet, flattening against the wall and in the shadows. He could hear the footsteps of three men walking away pause.

"Did you hear something?" The third man asked. Bucky held his breath, watching apprehensively for one of them to come back to investigate and find him there. An aquiline profile drew even with his hiding spot, and he tensed, ready to go down fighting.

"You're probably just hearing my stomach," the thief commented. "I always work up an appetite on these jobs." The man standing just feet away from Bucky snorted and shook his head, but turned and followed the other two down the hall, leaving Bucky's hiding place behind him. Bucky exhaled a slow breath of relief, but then crept out, following at what he hoped was a safe distance. He moved noiselessly, creeping from shadow to shadow, his hands itching for a weapon, but for once he hadn't brought one. At the end of the long hallway, the three men went through a tall set of double doors. Hoping he wouldn't regret it, Bucky followed, diving under a table set up against the wall. He peered around the stack of boxes set in front of it, which provided him cover but also obscured his view. There was a large cylindrical machine set up in the center, with channels running along the floor to three small platforms spread out throughout the room. Two men in lab coats were tending to the central machine, adjusting dials and putting information into a control panel. Behind them, a man with dark hair turned grey at the temples and a floor-length cape supervised with his hands clasped behind his back.

"We got the stabilizing unit, boss," the big man volunteered. The one carrying the valise handed it over to the aristocratic man, who Bucky assumed was Nefaria. Count Nefaria took the case and opened it, surveying the contents with a critical eye.

"Very good," he declared. Lifting the unit out, he handed it over to the men in white coats, who brought it over to the machine and opened a panel in the side. "We are almost finished, then. Once the stabilizer is in place, you can all assume your positions as we discussed. Power Man on the north dais, Whirlwind on the southwest, Laser to the southeast." He recognized their names, but hadn't recognized them in the dark and in disguise.

"And then you increase our powers in exchange for us taking out the Avengers, right?" the thief asked eagerly. Nefaria made a weary gesture.

"Yes, of course, my dear Whirlwind. That is the point of all this, is it not?" Nefaria looked back at the scientists. "Mr. Gherig, Mr. Raskop, are we close?" One of the scientists snapped the panel they had been working in shut and nodded to Nefaria.

"Ready when you are, Count," he replied. With a swirl of his cape, Nefaria turned around.

"Splendid. Gentlemen, assume your positions," he instructed. Bucky's eyes widened. He silently debated leaping out and trying to stop them on his own, but dismissed the idea after a moment's consideration. He was not only outnumbered but essentially unarmed. Not completely; he wasn't comfortable without at least one sidearm. But his single pistol wouldn't stand up against the four opponents in the room with him. He slid it out of his boot holster and got it ready, but stayed where he was. Venturing out without a plan would be suicide, and he had Nyssa and the babies waiting for him at home.

* * *

"Tony!" Nyssa called as she charged into his workshop, one baby strapped to her back and the other in her arms. "Tony, I need your help." Tony emerged from behind his workstation. With one glance at Nyssa's panicked expression, his sarcastic quip died on his tongue.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Bucky hasn't come back yet, and I feel like something terrible's happened," she explained in a rush. "Can you see if he's turned on his homing beacon?" With a curt nod, Tony returned to his workstation and pulled up the appropriate program.

"He's activated it," he confirmed. "Looks like he's a few blocks away."

"Sir," Friday interrupted. "I'm picking up on 911 calls that indicate there was an explosion in the subway tunnel. The location corresponds with Bucky's signal." Nyssa closed her eyes. Brooklyn started to fuss, picking up on her mother's anxiety, and Nyssa bounced slightly, shifting her weight side to side, trying to soothe her despite the tension in her face. Tony grimaced and stood, but then blinked down at his screen as the dot suddenly moved to a different location.

"What the hell," Tony muttered. "He just jumped clear across town." He bent over the display, zooming in closer. "Friday, what is at that address?" he queried.

"Residential," Friday replied. "Registered to the Italian Consulate." Tony's eyes narrowed.

"Who have we pissed off with ties to the Italian government?" he muttered under his breath. He glanced at Nyssa, who gave him a significant look, and he swore. "Goddamned Nefaria, that's who."

"Bucky's in trouble," Nyssa summed up grimly. Tony nodded agreement, running a hand down his face.

"Friday, assemble the others," he directed. "We have a rescue mission." Down the hall, they could hear Steve's voice echoing as the alert sounded overhead. He looked back at Nyssa, who was rubbing Brooklyn's back, tears welling in her sightless eyes. His expression softened, and he touched her on the shoulder. "We'll bring him back, don't worry," he assured her. She smiled shakily and nodded.

"I wish I could go with…" she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Tony nodded sympathetically.

"Yeah, but you can't," he said bluntly. "They need you here. We need you here. I need you to stay with Aaron, too." He glanced over in the corner, where Aaron was playing with a bin of scraps and wires.

"Yes, of course," Nyssa replied distractedly, taking a deep breath and wiping moisture from her cheek.

"If you can watch Petra, too, then we'll also have Wanda," Tony mused.

"That is true," Nyssa agreed. She turned her face towards Tony, lifting her chin resolutely. "Bring him home, Tony. Bring everyone home."

"That's the plan," Tony assured her as armor formed over his body.

* * *

Bucky shifted his weight incrementally, trying to get a better look at what was going on without giving away his position. The three men he had followed here took their positions on the circular platforms ringing the center unit. Count Nefaria clapped his hands twice. Bucky heard one of the scientists counting down from ten as the whine of the equipment around him rose in pitch and intensity. As they reached the end of the countdown, the room was flooded with blinding light, and Bucky shielded his face automatically. He could hear the men screaming. It continued for several minutes, and then stopped suddenly, leaving Bucky with his ears ringing and eyes half-blinded from the intense glare. Slowly, his senses adjusted. The three men were slumped on their platforms as Nefaria strolled by surveying them, hands clasped expectantly.

"How do you feel, gentlemen?" he called out. The three large figures – larger than before, or maybe that was just Bucky's imagination – slowly got to their feet.

"Stronger," declared Power Man, flexing, then sent a flash of light blasting towards the ceiling. The lights in the room flickered as the resulting explosion blew a hole in the ceiling, and the floor under Bucky shook slightly. "More powerful," he declared. Nefaria looked up at the new hole in the ceiling with annoyance. The man on the southwest platform began to spin, wearing metal body armor with shining sawblades adorning his wrists. The wind in the room began to pick up, whipping Bucky's hair around his face. Soon, the man was moving too fast for Bucky's eye to follow, but the wood paneling on the walls began to shred, tracing his path. Bucky flattened back against the wall as the boxes he was hiding behind began to shred. Abruptly, the whirling stopped, leaving Bucky's cover intact.

"Faster," Whirlwind breathed in satisfaction, looking down at the blades on his arms.

"Could you gentlemen kindly refrain from causing more destruction to the building?" Nefaria asked in irritation. "We are not supposed to be here, officially." Whirlwind and Power Man looked somewhat abashed. On the last platform, Laser glowed brightly. Extending his arms out, he projected a green light throughout the room. His gaze settled on the table Bucky was hiding under.

"Count," he announced thoughtfully, "it appears we are not as alone as we thought." Bucky tensed as all the eyes in the room were suddenly trained on his hiding place. Power Man paced over to the table. Bucky gathered his legs underneath him. The table suddenly went flying through the air. Bucky fired at Power Man, but the bullets ricocheted off the man's forehead and skittered away on the floor. His firearm was batted away, sailing across the room and spinning as it slid across the floor and collided with the wall. Switching tactics, Bucky launched himself at the towering behemoth, leading with his metal fist. It was like punching a brick wall, except usually the wall took some damage. With a chuckle, the man seized him by the arms as if he were an action figure. Bucky strained in vain against the vise-like grip.

"Well, look who it is," Power Man snickered. "We've got ourselves the knockoff Captain America, lurking around like a cockroach." Bucky glared up at him. He was not a small man, by any means, but his captor had over a foot and substantial mass on him.

"You wanted us to take out the Avengers, Count," Whirlwind noted. "Shall we start with him?"

"It does seem a good warm-up, to test your new powers," Nefaria agreed. "Though I doubt he will be much of a challenge."

"Do you think his arm comes off?" Power Man mused, pulling on it. Bucky gritted his teeth against the pull, muscles and nerves screaming in protest. Power Man released his other arm, whipping his body around violently by the metal appendage. Bucky pressed the emergency release and dropped, leaving his metal arm in the big man's grip. Power Man waved the arm in the air mockingly, but a moment later choked and spluttered as the arm seized his throat and began to squeeze. Bucky spared a moment for a grin and a thought of thanks to Shuri for her ingenuity. The others looked just as startled as Power Man. Taking advantage of their surprise, Bucky dashed for the door, but it blew shut in the rising wind as Whirlwind spun to a stop in front of him.

"Where do you think you're going?" Whirlwind gloated with a gleam in his eye. Bucky attempted to dodge around him, but the man moved too fast. Bucky found himself caught up in a whirlwind of blades, and cried out in agony as the skin on his chest and back began to shred. Whirlwind cackled and stopped to watch Bucky fall to his knees on the floor. Power Man picked him back up.

"You think you're real funny, huh?" he growled at Bucky. "I got a better one for you." Carefully keeping the metal hand away from his face and neck, he began battering Bucky with his own arm. "Stop hitting yourself. Stop hitting yourself. Oh wait, you can't," he taunted. Bucky twisted and squirmed to avoid the impact of the worst of it, but he could feel bones cracking and muscles tearing. "Batter up!" Power Man called, tossing Bucky into the air. Rather than using Bucky's arm, he merely balled up his massive fist and punched Bucky across the room. Bucky slammed into the wall, which cracked and broke under the force of his impact. He landed on the floor outside of the great room, his body throbbing under their onslaught. He groaned and rolled onto his stomach. He wasn't entirely certain any of his limbs would hold his weight at this point. In the room, he could hear them laughing and joking. Hoping they would remain distracted long enough for him to at least find a place to hide, he began creeping along the floor. His hopes were dashed when he felt someone seize his collar and haul him off the ground. Whirlwind sneered at him.

"Leaving so soon?" he mocked him. "But we were having so much fun!" He whirled about, bringing Bucky with him as he spun faster than the eye could see. It was dizzying and disorienting, and his stomach lurched. "Hey Power Man," he heard Whirlwind call. "Should we try a pair of portals?" Power Man's laughter boomed in the room. Bucky found himself flying through the air, sailing through a portal similar to the one that brought him here. He was regretting his decision to jump through that first one. That portal transported him up much higher, nearly to the ceiling, and dropped him thirty feet down to the first portal. He looped through both portals several times, reaching terminal velocity, and then the lower portal vanished, and he slammed into the floor. He almost didn't hear his bones crack over the sound of their laughter, but he still felt them. This time, he wasn't sure that he would even be able to crawl away.

"Yes, very amusing." Count Nefaria's tone did not sound amused at all. "Stop playing with the man and finish it."

"Gladly," Power Man rumbled. He crossed over to Bucky's prone form and positioned his boot over Bucky's head. Bucky summoned the last of his flagging energy and rolled out of the way just as the massive boot stomped against the floor, sending tremors under and through Bucky's broken body. "Hey, who said you could move?" the behemoth growled, a sneer on his face. He took a step and raised his foot for another stomp. Bucky tried to scramble away but found his exit routes blocked. He both felt and saw the boot looming over him, and braced himself, throwing his one remaining arm up to keep his head reasonably intact. He waited for the impact. When it didn't come, he peeked out and saw Power Man's boot a few inches away, frozen in midair, wreathed in red energy.

"Count Nefaria!" Iron Man's distinctive tenor filled the room. "Your diplomatic immunity is revoked." Power Man turned to face the new threat, leaving Bucky forgotten on the floor. Gratefully, he looked towards the ceiling. Wanda, Iron Man, War Machine, Vision and Falcon were all taking advantage of the hole that Power Man had made earlier to make a grand entrance. Wanda had her hands outstretched, and the room's other occupants were frozen, red lines of energy holding them in place. The door to the room crashed open, and Captain America charged through, followed by Black Widow, Ant-Man, Hawkeye and the Hulk. They paused a moment, taking in the enemies frozen in place. Bucky closed his eyes in relief. Black Widow caught sight of his bloody and battered body sprawled in the corner. In an instant, she was at his side, her hand cupping his jaw in what first felt like a caress, but then he realized she was checking for a pulse. He must look even worse than he thought.

"I'm alive," he wheezed.

"Jesus, James," she breathed. "Are you trying to get yourself killed, idiot?"

"I expected you… fifteen minutes ago," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. Any louder hurt too much. Natasha rolled her eyes at him and shook her head, but her hands were gentle against his bruises. Shouts from the air drew her attention back to the room, and they both saw green light coming from Laser, who lifted his arms up. The green light surrounded Wanda's head. She cried out, falling several feet towards the floor before catching herself. The red lights restraining the villains vanished, and they advanced menacingly on the Avengers.

"Lethal Legion, attack!" Nefaria called out. Whirlwind began his spinning attack, moving in a blur. The wind picked up in the room, beginning to buffet the heroes. Hawkeye cried out as his shoulder suddenly erupted in lacerations, the string of his bow snapping. Captain America stepped towards the whirling blur, driving forward with the shield. A loud clang resonated in the room, and Whirlwind stopped short, one of his wrist blades half embedded in the vibranium. Captain America took advantage of the sudden stop and surprise and slammed his fist into Whirlwind's face.

* * *

"Hulk smash!" The familiar cry came from the green behemoth, who launched himself at Power Man. The force of his blow knocked the supervillain back a few steps, but he appeared otherwise unfazed. Raising his arms, he sent bolts of blue light flying towards Hulk. The ionic blasts knocked the berserker backwards, and he looked down in surprise at the scorch marks on his chest. He got up a moment later, sprinting towards Power Man with a roar. Power Man soared upwards, out of reach of the raging green man.

"Great, he can fly, too?" Natasha muttered, standing up from where she was crouched at Bucky's side and moving back to join her teammates. Bucky contemplated trying to stand back up so he could fight with them, but when he attempted to roll over, his ribs screamed a protest and his legs wouldn't obey. His metal arm lay forgotten on the floor just a few meters away. Forgotten by everyone else, at least. He turned his head slightly and concentrated. The fingers of the metal hand curved inwards, moving the arm several inches.

Iron Man moved to intercept Power Man, raising one of his gauntlet repulsors.

"We accept your unconditional surrender," he informed Power Man, who only laughed. Iron Man fired a warning shot. The repulsor charge exploded against Power Man's shoulder, but he scarcely seemed to notice. He returned fire, aiming for the repulsors in the suit's boots that kept Iron Man aloft. One of them went out, causing Tony to tumble down for several feet before arresting his fall with his hand repulsors. Hulk leapt at Power Man, grabbing onto his shirt with one hand and pounding on his head with the other massive green fist. While it did not have the effect it would have with most other opponents, it did pull Power Man off course and kept him distracted. The two of them flew a ragged course, flying dangerously close to the walls as Hulk continued his assault. First War Machine, then Falcon dove in, knocking Power Man further off course, spinning the villain into a wall.

* * *

Whirlwind broke away from Captain America and began his breakneck spin. Hawkeye nocked an arrow in his bow, followed the whirling tornado for a moment, then let the arrow fly. Whirlwind let out a howl, coming out of his spin abruptly. The arrow was sticking out of his neck. He jerked spasmodically as Black Widow's electric shock darts followed, embedding in his exposed neck with shocking precision. Captain America threw his shield, and it rebounded off of his head, making him take a staggering step backwards. Black Widow took advantage of his temporary incapacitation to launch a flying attack, pushing off his armored shoulder with one foot while kicking him in the face with the other. He toppled over backwards, landing heavily on the floor.

* * *

Iron Man touched down lightly, his attention still trained upwards.

"Friday, how long til we can get that repulsor operational again?" Tony asked impatiently.

"I working as fast as I can, Boss," Friday replied. "Estimate twenty-five seconds to full power."

"Can't we do any better than that?" Tony asked, then froze in place as everything was stained with green. Images of Pepper and Aaron flooded his consciousness: walking out the door with an air of finality, dead at the hands of vigilantes with a grudge against Tony Stark, crying over his dead body, burning at the end of the world while he looked on, helpless to stop it. All his greatest fears and worst-case scenarios played out before his horrified eyes.

"Okay, systems operating at 100%." Friday's voice fell on deaf ears as Tony continued to watch the macabre parade of phantasmagorias his mind was presenting.

Wanda landed next to Laser, who was standing with arms outstretched, casting green light over a frozen Tony. Stretching her hands out, she surrounded him with a red glow. Red tendrils wove through the green light holding Tony entranced, slicing it into smaller and smaller shreds until it dispelled completely. Tony shook his head, banishing the last of the images. Laser glared at Wanda. She smiled thinly at him, no humor in her eyes.

"I know those parlor tricks," she said scornfully. "I don't appreciate you using them on my friends." He attempted to project the green light in her direction, but she banished it with a flick of her wrist. She brought her hands together in a crushing motion, then pulled them away from each other. Laser howled as the laser diode implants in his wrist crushed against bone, then tore out of his skin.

* * *

Bucky frowned in concentration as he watched his arm crawl slowly across the floor towards him, the disembodied arm inching through the chaos of the battle around them. It finally became close enough for him to grab it. It took an act of will to make his fingers close around the metal arm and pull it towards his empty shoulder joint. It reattached itself eagerly, and he sighed in relief as it became the one part of his body that didn't hurt. He rolled over, grimacing in pain, and began inching towards his discarded firearm. He wasn't certain how much he was going to be able to help in his condition, but he would feel better with it in hand, at any rate.

Power Man gestured, and portals sprang up in front of Falcon and War Machine, who vanished from sight. Vision dodged the portal that opened before him. With a frown, he flew directly into the careening Power Man. His head emerged on the other side and slowly solidified. Power Man screamed, and his eyes rolled back in his head. He dropped to the floor, unresponsive. Vision implacably floated out of the man's massive body. Falcon and War Machine flew back through the hole in the roof in time to see the last of their adversaries fall. Iron Man turned to face Count Nefaria, who was now perched on top of the large, cylindrical machine at the center of the room, his cape billowing behind him.

"About that surrender…" Iron Man began. Nefaria looked at him scornfully.

"That was merely phase one of my plan," he informed them. "Now it is time for phase two!" He gestured to the scientists cowering at the base of the machine. Mr. Gherig, Mr. Raskop, you may commence." Shakily getting to their feet, the two scientists turned knobs and flipped levers, and the machine powered up with a roar. The blinding light was again accompanied by the screams. Bucky propped himself up on his metal elbow and aimed his pistol at the column of light, drawing from memory to aim. He fired off three quick shots, then moved his aim higher and shot twice more. The machine changed in pitch, sparks arcing from the interior and sending light tendrils clawing toward the walls and ceiling. Nefaria's voice began howling above them all. Gherig and Raskop hastily powered the machine down, shouting about losing containment and being unstable. Laser, Power Man and Whirlwind sprawled on the floor groaning. Nefaria reached his arms towards the ceiling and chortled.

"I feel the power coursing through me," he gloated. "Their powers are now mine." Stretching out one hand, he hurled ionic blasts at where Black Widow and Hawkeye were standing. They both jumped out of the way just in time, and the blast only left a blackened outline on the hardwood floor. He fired at Captain America next, who deflected the charge with his shield just in time. Nefaria sent a rapid-fire burst of ionic blasts strafing across the room, making the Avengers dodge out of the way. Hulk took the full blast head on, charging towards Count Nefaria. He laughed again and began to spin, whirling faster and faster until Bucky had to drop his gun to hold onto something more solid as the wind clutched and dragged at him. The other Avengers were also bracing against whatever solid object they could reach.

Wanda reached out, her red magic weaving around the whirling man and tightening slowly. He moved away suddenly, escaping her scarlet-fingered grip, much to Wanda's shock. Both Iron Man and War Machine fired repulsor blasts at the spinning vortex. Hawkeye fired another arrow, hoping to repeat his earlier success, but the thin projectile just ricocheted away despite the direct hit. Cap threw his shield, but it was similarly deflected. Hulk roared and jumped at the whirling enemy, but landed where the man had been half a heartbeat before. Vision suddenly appeared in the tornado's path, increasing his mass and density until he became an immovable object. Nefaria halted abruptly, shaking slightly and looking somewhat stunned. Wanda raised her hands again, wrapping him in crimson bonds. He strained against them, baring his teeth at her. He suddenly projected green light around her, fighting back her ruby magic. Vision appeared behind him, holding the Count in place by the arms. A set of handcuffs formed around Nefaria's wrists, extending down to cover his hands.

"I would not struggle too much if I were you," Vision advised him. "The more you strain, the tighter the restraints will become." Nefaria glared at them indignantly.

"How dare you treat me this way!" he howled. "I still have diplomatic immunity!" Vision ignored him, his attention for the moment on the machine at the center of the room.

"Are you sure about that?" Iron Man asked archly. "We'll find out if the Italian government agrees with you. In any case, better to beg forgiveness."

"You may also need to pay attention to the effects of your… treatment," Vision informed him. "The stabilizer unit of your device was damaged, so the conclusion of the power transfer was wildly erratic. You may experience dangerous fluctuations." Nefaria sneered at him.

"Thank you so much for the warning," he said sarcastically.

"You are welcome," Vision replied calmly, and flew the captured count through the hole in the ceiling. Whirlwind, Laser and Power Man were helped to their feet by Hawkeye, Ant-Man and War Machine and led away in handcuffs, limping and weak after being drained of their powers.

Bucky rested the side of his face against the cool floor. With the adrenaline ebbing away, the pain was setting in, and every part of his body throbbed in agony. He hurt in places he had heretofore been blissfully unaware of. He was vaguely aware of someone standing over him, then kneeling down beside him. Even the light touch on his shoulder sent waves of pain crashing through him.

"You still with us, Buck?" Steve's concerned tenor asked softly. Bucky opened his eyes briefly.

"Still here," he confirmed. A weak smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. "I had 'em on the ropes." Steve snorted.

"I still can't figure out what you were thinking, going up against those guys by yourself without your arsenal or confirmed backup," Natasha contributed from his other side.

"Yeah, usually that's Steve's play," Sam agreed from somewhere by Bucky's hip.

"Moment of temporary stupidity," Bucky mumbled into the floor, then lifted his head as much as he could bear. "They mentioned Nefaria. I couldn't let them get away."

"Yeah, well, now you've got sixteen broken bones," Sam informed him. He must be using the diagnostic x-ray on his flight goggles. "We better get you back to make sure they all set properly, or you'll be walking funny forever."

"With that many fractures, is it safe to move him?" Natasha asked worriedly.

"Spine's okay, by some miracle," Sam reassured her. "But it's going to be hard to move him without hurting him. Anyone have a gurney in their back pocket?" Sam sounded as if he were at the end of a tunnel. Bucky felt cold, as if he had just come out of cryo.

"Allow me." Wanda's voice echoed faintly, sounding very far away. Bucky felt himself rising into the air, then dropped down into darkness for the second time that day.

* * *

When he awakened again, he was in the medical wing in Avengers Tower. He was surprised to note that the pain was completely gone. There was that itchy tingle that he was far too familiar with as his fractures were being encouraged to heal even faster than his serum-enhanced biology would normally provide. His legs and flesh arm wouldn't bend; he glanced down to see they were in immobilizers to hold the bones in place while they mended. On his left side, a mess of tousled dark hair rested on the bed even with his waist, one hand resting on his abdomen. Nyssa seemed to be soundly sleeping, but as he reflexively ran his left hand affectionately through her curls, she drew in a deep breath and sat up. She blinked bleary, red-rimmed and puffy eyes, but smiled at him.

"Hey," he said softly. "How long have you been here?"

"Ummm…." Nyssa frowned. "Friday, what time is it?"

"Two thirty-seven A.M.," the AI replied. Nyssa nodded.

"Close to ten hours?" Bucky guessed. Nyssa shook her head.

"Try thirty-three," she said dryly. Bucky's eyes widened.

"Where are the babies?" he asked, glancing around the room.

"First Elijah had them, now they're with Laura and Clint," Nyssa replied. "They bring them to me every couple hours so I can feed them." Bucky shook his head at her.

"Have you even slept?" he asked in concern, taking in the dark shadows under her eyes.

"I've been dozing, here and there," she told him reassuringly.

"You should go home and sleep in our bed," he admonished. She shook her head.

"I have to stay with you," she averred. He frowned.

"I loved waking up with you here," he told her. "But you need to rest, too." She sat up a little straighter and slowly withdrew the hand resting on his abdomen. He gasped as his body suddenly flooded with pain. Nyssa took a deep breath and replaced her hand lightly on his stomach. The throbbing, deep ache slowly subsided.

"I have to stay to help with the pain," she explained. She looked down and winced slightly. "I can tell that you're healing; it's not as bad as it was at first."

"Oh, God," Bucky breathed. "I forgot that you could do that."

"Not a god," she quipped. "Just a Nyssa."

"Mmm, maybe an angel," Bucky suggested with a smirk. She gave him a dirty look, but then sighed and rested her head on his chest. He pulled her closer with his metal arm, glad that he had at least one functional limb to do so. "Ah, my Nyssa," he whispered.

"I'm just glad you made it home," she whispered back. She lifted her head and shifted carefully forward to cover his mouth with hers. He kissed her back with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. There had been moments when he hadn't been certain he would ever be able to kiss her lips again.

"Me too, Doll," he murmured. "Me too."

* * *

 **Thanks to Qweb, karina001 and DarylDixon'sLover for your reviews! Sorry for the delay on this chapter, life has been crazy. I'm hoping the next one won't take so long.**


	31. Flintstone Kids

**Disclaimer: Marvel Characters are property of Marvel. Original Characters are mine. Just for fun, not for profit.**

* * *

 **Flintstone Kids**

Bucky was abruptly awakened as a tiny hand with razor-sharp talons seized the end of his nose. He opened his eyes to see Brooklyn's bright blue ones focused on his face. When she saw him looking back at her, she grinned a toothless grin and patted his cheek with her baby hand. He grinned despite the abrupt awakening and half sat up in the bed.

"Hey, babydoll," he said, looking around the room. Nyssa was nowhere to be seen, and Jameson was also absent. The bassinette was on the other side of the bed, next to where Nyssa usually slept. "How did you get over here?" He got out of bed, standing at the side of it, and Brooklyn crept across the sheets toward him. She was still down on her tummy, pulling herself with her arms towards him in an army crawl, her face a study in concentration. She inched closer, then got into a sitting position and raised her arms to be picked up. Bucky scooped her up and cradled her against his chest with his right arm. "Let's go find your mom and brother." He carried her down the hallway. Nyssa emerged from the nursery with Jameson at her shoulder. "There they are!" Bucky announced. "And your brother is already dressed!"

"Well, after the blowout he had, keeping him in his pajamas wasn't really an option," Nyssa commented. "Do you want to get her diaper changed?"

"First, you have to see this," Bucky insisted. Nyssa raised her eyebrows and stopped in the doorway. Bucky set Brooklyn down on the floor, then seated himself a few feet away. She pressed up with her arms and craned her head back to look at him. "Come on, come here," he encouraged. She gurgled and rolled onto her back instead, grabbing at her feet. Bucky made a face at her. "Sure, make me look like an idiot."

"I'm sure it won't be the last time," Nyssa said teasingly. "I take it she was more mobile than expected this morning?"

"She crawled across the bed and grabbed my nose," Bucky confirmed, touching the feature he referenced. "Which, by the way, her fingernails are little talons."

"I'll try to get them clipped again today," Nyssa replied. "Goodness, that's so fast. They're not even three months old yet; they shouldn't be even close to crawling. Now I get to worry about what might be on our floor that could end up in their mouths."

"You're not excited, even a little bit?" Bucky asked. Nyssa sighed.

"Well, of course I'm proud and excited, too," she admitted. "But there's still that part of my brain that finds new things to worry about, and that never shuts off. It's gotten worse since they were born; I think it's a mom thing."

"Does that part of your brain ever let you enjoy your children?" Bucky asked, getting to his feet and picking Brooklyn up again.

"Yes," Nyssa replied immediately. "Usually simultaneously. What time is your meeting this morning?"

"Nine-thirty," Bucky answered. "Why?"

"Just wanted to make sure you have time for breakfast before you go," she said with a smile. "Pancakes sound good?"

"Mmmm, pancakes, yum, yum, yum," Bucky said in silly voice to Brooklyn, who rewarded him with another toothless grin and a giggle. Nyssa grinned as she headed towards the kitchen.

Bucky had only taken a couple weeks after the fight with Nefaria before he was healed enough to go back on active duty. On his plate today was the standard weekly Avengers meeting, and then he was headed to Double Helix for what should be his last recording session for the game. They had not been called on for any aggressive tactics recently, and the city had been free of any catastrophic attacks for once. Bucky enjoyed the reprieve, but never expected it to last.

The twins were settled into their high chairs, a handful of toasted oat cereal scattered on the trays in front of them to keep them occupied while Nyssa finished making breakfast. She brought the stack of pancakes to the table, then returned to fetch the bowl of fresh fruit she had diced up. Scattering a few pieces of banana and mandarin orange on the babies' trays, she set the rest at the center of the table. Bucky had already helped himself to a stack of pancakes, and drizzled maple syrup all over them. He picked a handful of blueberries out of the bowl of fruit and added them on top of the whipped cream to finish his breakfast creation. Nyssa settled into her place with her mug of coffee and took the rest of the pancakes, digging in hungrily. Bucky watched her tuck in with a little smile. With the increase in appetite, he had noticed she had filled out a little. She was still nowhere near chubby, but usually tended towards looking like she was two meals away from starvation. Now her curves were more pronounced, and she had a healthy glow in her face and a pleasant softness when he pulled her close at night. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"What?" she asked pointedly.

"Nothing," Bucky said quickly. Even he knew not to mention a woman's size or weight, regardless of how much he enjoyed it. "I was just thinking how much motherhood suits you." Her expression softened into a smile, her cheeks turning slightly pink.

"Thank you," she replied. Her head inclined towards the twins, her attention focusing on them. Brooklyn examined the slice of banana in her fist intently, then shoved it in her mouth. Jameson poked at one of the chunks on his tray, pushing it towards the edge, leaving a slimy trail behind it. "I've been thinking a lot lately about how fast this is going to go. They're still growing at the same accelerated rate. That means we won't have a lot of time before they're all grown up. Do you realize that? They're going to be adult size in less than a decade."

"Shuri said they might slow down after puberty," Bucky reminded her. She nodded.

"Might," she emphasized slightly. "And even if that's the case, we only have, what, six years until they get to that point?" Bucky chewed his mouthful of pancakes as he mulled that over, then swallowed.

"That is fast," he agreed. "I guess I didn't think about it that way." Nyssa shook her head, one hand idly playing with her necklace.

"I just… I'm worried about missing too much. I keep imagining leaving on a mission and coming back to find that they learned to walk while I was gone, or that I missed their first words. Even just leaving for sessions on a regular basis could pose a challenge. I'm trying to think who would watch them if it wasn't me or you. We've had plenty of offers to babysit, but I'd want something more consistent than that. Elijah likes being Grandpa, but I'm not sure he can keep up with both of them once they're mobile, considering they're going to be faster and stronger than other kids their age. Which also presents an issue if we wanted to send them to daycare. Can you imagine them in a room full of two-year olds when they have the size, skill and mind of a four year old? A super fast, super strong four year old? How would we place them?" She half-smiled reflexively. "And I don't know if I trust a stranger to take care of them, anyway."

"So what are you saying?" Bucky asked. He thought he could see where she was going with this, but he wanted her to lead him there.

"I don't think I'm ready to go back to work full time," she admitted. "And I don't know if I will be any time soon. I can't think of anything more important for me to do right now than be their mom. Can you?" Bucky sat back in his chair and contemplated her.

"Are you sure that's what you want?" he asked. "You're usually always busy, whether it's with the Avengers, or community work, or your therapy sessions. Are you going to be okay with just being at home with them, doing the domestic thing?"

"It's only for a few years," Nyssa pointed out. "And I probably won't be staying at home all the time. There's a whole world out there for them to discover and explore. I want to show them what I can of it."

"If that's what you want to do, I fully support your decision," he said carefully. He didn't want to seem overly enthusiastic about the idea, even though the thought of Nyssa safe at home with the babies for the foreseeable future was both a relief and a joy. Nyssa smiled at him, although she was surely aware of the difference between his internal reaction and what he chose to say. Her eyebrow quirked upward slightly.

"Don't think this lets you off the hook completely," she warned him playfully. "You still have to be Daddy when you're home, and I get some time for me on occasion, too."

"Agreed," Bucky declared. "Do you want to break the news to them, or shall I?"

"I won't forbid you from talking about it, but I'll send in my formal resignation by the end of the day," she decided.

* * *

Bucky was one of the first to arrive for the meeting. Nick Fury regarded him with his one good eye over the top of his coffee cup.

"Morning, Barnes," he rumbled. Bucky nodded at him as he sat down at the table.

"Fury," he replied.

"How are the kids?" he asked. Bucky grinned. He still wasn't used to having an answer to that question, but he was beginning to understand the term "pride and joy" a little better.

"Oh, don't get him started," Sam opined as he sat down across from Bucky. "We'll never get to talk about anything else." Bucky shot him a dirty look.

"They're good," he replied, his response directed at Fury, but gaze focused on Sam. "Getting strong. Growing fast."

"Settle down, you two," Steve said as he settled into the chair at Bucky's right. Bucky gave him an indignant look.

"What? I didn't even say anything," he protested. Steve shrugged.

"I just kind of assume at this point," he admitted, but there was a twinkle in his eyes. Bucky sighed and shook his head, but didn't rise to their baiting.

Ten minutes later, everyone had arrived and Fury called the meeting to order. The usual business was dispensed with relatively quickly: an update on which news stories begged for closer eyes, geopolitical events and conflicts that might eventually require Avenger intervention, choosing delegates for the next quarter for the Security Council and for the United Nations. Once those items were settled, Fury sat back down.

"Next, I turn the floor over to our interim community outreach coordinator," Fury announced, gesturing to Natasha. She stood up and began sorting through the pile of folders in front of her.

"First off," she began, "thanks to those of you who were able to make the Habitat build day last week. We have a thank you letter and pictures of the family that moved into the house you helped build, if you're interested." With a smile, she pushed them into the center of the table. Scott picked them up with interest. "For future business, I have requests from Make-a-Wish that require the personal attention of at least one Avenger. Eight for Iron Man, two for Falcon, one each for Hulk, Ant-Man and Hawkeye, five for Wanda, three for Vision, six for Thor – I will contact him after the meeting – six for Captain America Rogers, and four for Captain America Barnes. Seven group requests for as many of us as we can coordinate. One for Nick Fury." With a smirk, she slid the last folder across the table to a surprised-looking Fury. "And three for Black Widow." She regarded the others with an expectant look. "Also, we are still short volunteers for the soup kitchen next week, organizers for the "Clean Up the City" day next month, and I'll need three of you to make an appearance at a hospital fundraiser on the seventeenth."

"I can do both," Steve offered. Natasha grinned at him gratefully.

"Anyone else?" she asked.

* * *

Bucky lingered as everyone filed out after the conclusion of the meeting. He wandered over to Natasha as she organized her paperwork.

"You don't volunteer as much as you did when Nyssa was doing this," Natasha observed. "Do you have a problem with how I do the job?" Her tone was teasing, but he thought he detected an earnest note as well. He shook his head.

"No, no problem at all. I just have more responsibilities now." He sat down in the chair next to Natasha. "Speaking of which, I wanted to give you some advance warning. You might become the permanent community outreach coordinator." Natasha glanced at him in surprise. "Nyssa is thinking of making her leave a more permanent thing." Natasha sat back and regarded him levelly.

"Was that your idea?" she asked bluntly. Bucky shook his head.

"I didn't even suggest it," he denied. "Although, I can't say that I'm upset about the idea."

"Well, some of the others might be," Natasha declared. "She was a valuable part of the team, and she will be missed. Her skills, too."

"You can still come visit," Bucky reminded her. "She's not moving away. It's just a… an extended hiatus."

"I know, but it's not quite the same. You know what I mean." She glanced down at the pile of papers on the table. "I can't say I mind taking over this part, though. It's much more gratifying work than collecting information to use for blackmail."

"Do you need any more resources?" Bucky asked, gesturing to the pile. Natasha raised an eyebrow at him.

"She only left me with seventeen pages of contacts and a hard drive full of ideas, aside from the filing cabinet of projects in various stages of planning and completion," she replied dryly. "I'm used to working with far less. But if I do have any questions, I'll let her know." Bucky half-grinned.

"Fair enough," he allowed. Natasha's smile widened.

"So, how are the kids?" she asked.

* * *

Nyssa answered the door before Tony had a chance to knock, Darshan at her heels, one baby wrapped snugly against her back and another in her arms.

"Tony, thanks for coming," she greeted him, then focused her attention downward, and her smile grew wider. "And for bringing your helper." Aaron had one fist clutching Tony's pant leg as they both entered the apartment. Tony reached down and carefully unwound his clothing from his son's fist.

"I hope you don't mind," Tony said apologetically. Nyssa grinned.

"Why would I mind? I asked you a favor on short notice. And I'm always happy to have Aaron over. In fact…" She crossed over to a stack of boxes on the counter. "I have something here that I think he would like." She set the baby in her arms down on the floor. Jameson sat up steadily and reached up towards Darshan, who sat at attention in front of him. The dog lowered his nose within reach, and Jameson grabbed onto it, his face breaking out in a grin. Nyssa picked the box up and presented it to Tony. "I thought of Aaron when I saw it." Tony raised his eyebrows at the box of brightly colored magnetic tiles.

"That might keep him busy for awhile," he mused.

"How long will you need to get the cameras installed?" Nyssa inquired, scooping Jameson back up. Tony shrugged.

"Twenty minutes, give or take," he estimated.

"And they'll be on a different network than the rest of the security cameras, right?" she asked, her tone slightly anxious. Tony gave her a sardonic look.

"Do you really think I want to watch what goes on in your bedroom?" he replied. Nyssa raised an eyebrow at him pointedly, and he held both hands up. "It will be on its own private, secured network that nobody will be able to access aside from you. Scout's honor."

"I didn't realize you were a Boy Scout, Tony," Nyssa noted with an impish grin.

"I wasn't. Do you want me to start in the kitchen or the bedroom?" he asked.

* * *

Bucky arrived at Double Helix fifteen minutes ahead of the agreed-upon time, and was surprised to see that Steve and Sam were both already there. He hadn't been aware that anyone else was going to be there aside from him. Neil, their contact, appeared pleased and not at all astonished.

"Thanks for coming, I'm glad you could all make it," he said warmly, shaking their hands. "We wanted to try something a little different this time. Since you aren't used to doing voice work, we've got everything set up so that you'll basically just be talking to each other. Like you're on a mission, and we're just eavesdropping." Sam started to laugh.

"I guess that's one way to get us to emote," he noted, shaking his head. Bucky just smiled.

* * *

On the floor of the nursery, both babies sprawled on their tummies while Tony perched on a ladder to install a camera in the corner where it could capture the entire room. Nyssa stood to the side, supervising. Brooklyn edged along the floor and pulled herself to a half-crouched position as she reached for a screwdriver hanging out of the side of Tony's electrical toolbox.

"Hey, Crazy Train, I think your daughter is confusing my tools with her toys," Tony alerted Nyssa, both hands occupied as he wired the camera in place. Nyssa swooped in and removed the tool from Brooklyn's grasp, then moved the toolbox up to the top of the dresser, out of reach of curious hands. "I can see why you wanted cameras put in."

"I just realized that I won't know when they've found something that could hurt them unless I could figure out a way to watch them," Nyssa said ruefully. Tony nodded understanding.

"That could be a problem," he agreed. "I only have one, and he's still a handful." He paused. "More than I thought this raising kids gig would be," he admitted. Nyssa frowned slightly.

"Do you have concerns, Tony?" she asked carefully. He sighed and climbed down the ladder.

"I mean, I don't know. I was a terrible child, so I should have expected it," he mentioned glibly. Nyssa raised her eyebrows at him.

"Were you, Tony?" she asked pointedly. "Or were you told that you were by people you trusted, so you believed them?" He gave her a hard look.

"God, I hate it when you do that," he muttered, picking up the ladder and bringing it into the next room. Nyssa followed, pausing in the doorway as Tony set up in a new corner.

"I'm not reading your mind," she assured him. "I just know that there's no such thing as a terrible child."

"Maybe challenging would be a better word," Tony suggested.

"Are we still talking about you, or about your son?" Nyssa asked pointedly. Tony sighed and busied himself with installing the camera in the living room.

"You know, I knew being a parent would be challenging," he admitted finally, climbing back down the ladder. "In a totally new way. But I still had an idea in my head of how it was going to be. And it's nothing like that. He's almost two years old, and he still hasn't said so much as a Dada. He barely looks at us. Naptimes and changing clothes are full-on battles. I can't even give him a hug without him melting down." Tony gestured helplessly. "I can't figure out how to hug my son."

"That does sound challenging," Nyssa agreed. "Is his pediatrician concerned? You probably should mention it to his doctor."

"You're a doctor," Tony pointed out.

"Yes, but not his doctor. I'm not a pediatrician," Nyssa hedged. Tony narrowed his eyes at her.

"Don't bullshit me, Dr. Taylor," he snapped. "You're a neuropsychologist who can literally see how people's minds work. You've spent lots of time with Aaron. Is there something wrong with my kid, or am I overthinking this?" She contemplated him for a moment.

"He's not exactly neurotypical," she confirmed. "But I don't know that I would say something is wrong. He may have some unique needs, but at the root of it, what he needs is the same as everyone else. He just needs to be loved as he is, without pressure to be something he isn't." Tony sighed.

"I do love him," he insisted. "Of course I do. It just seems like… he won't let me."

"If you want someone to help you learn how to help him better and interact more effectively, I can point you in the right direction," Nyssa offered. "There are plenty of resources…"

"Can't you just… fix him?" Tony asked in frustration. Silence settled in the room for an extended moment. Nyssa folded her arms over her chest and shook her head.

"You're looking at this the wrong way, Tony," she said quietly. "You're thinking that he's running a glitchy version of your same programming, but he's running an entirely different operating system. He has a different way of viewing and interacting with the world. That doesn't make it wrong or inferior to everyone else's." She took a couple steps into the room and looked over at where Aaron was playing with the magnetic tiles. "For what it's worth, he does love you. He knows you're his dad." Tony looked in the same direction, and his expression turned to one of shock. The brightly colored tiles had been sorted by colors and assembled into a replica of the Quinjet. As they watched, he lay on the floor in front of it and reached out for the ramp, opening and closing it over and over.

"He does seem to have an aptitude for figuring out how things work, how they fit together," Tony noted, his tone shifting from distressed to proud. Nyssa grinned.

"Well, of course he's brilliant," she observed. "He's still a Stark."

* * *

Bucky's recording session at Double Helix went a bit longer than he expected. The three of them mostly stuck to the script, but there were a few times where they had gotten sidetracked or off on a tangent, diverging instead into banter. Despite their improvisation – or maybe because of it – Neil seemed pleased with their performances. He shook Bucky's hand warmly as Bucky prepared to leave.

"Thanks for your hard work, Captain," he said enthusiastically. "I look forward to seeing how our designers decide to use the extra audio we captured today." Bucky smiled and nodded. He didn't feel like he had worked especially hard; he could spend all day shooting the shit with Steve and Sam. It had been fun, and he was curious to find out what they did with it. "Could you do us a favor?" Neil continued, holding an envelope out towards him. "This is for Dr. Taylor. Could you bring her the script and have her contact us about when she can come in for recording?" Bucky took the envelope with a nod.

"I didn't notice many lines for her in the script I had," he noted. Neil nodded.

"She's going to be DLC," he explained, "so we had to make sure the script worked without her there, also." Bucky frowned slightly.

"DLC?" he repeated. He had caught on to most modern slang and terms, but occasionally he still encountered one he was not so familiar with.

"Downloadable content," Neil explained. "She'll be a playable character, but they'll have to pay extra for her."

"Ah." Bucky wasn't sure how he felt about that, but he nodded to Neil. "I'll make sure she gets ahold of you."

It was with relief that he pulled his car back into the garage at Avengers Tower. He wasn't actively avoiding the subway, but after his last ride on it, he definitely felt more comfortable driving his own vehicle. The elevator seemed interminably slow. He strode down the hallway with long, ground-eating strides. In their apartment, Nyssa was carefully slicing up some vegetables while the twins played with stacking toys in their highchairs. Bucky spun her into his arms and kissed her thoroughly. No matter what they day brought, it was always good to be home.

* * *

 **As always, thanks to karina001, Qweb and DarylDixon'sLover for your ever-faithful reviews! Thanks also to the silent readers.**


	32. This Domestic Life

**Disclaimer: Marvel Characters are property of Marvel. Original Characters are mine. Just for fun, not for profit.**

* * *

 **This Domestic Life**

Shortly after sunrise, Nyssa was half-aware of lips against her temple as Bucky kissed her good morning and good-bye for the day. Both Jameson and Brooklyn let out sighs as they received an identical valediction, but didn't wake, snuggled against Nyssa. She awakened again nearly an hour later as Brooklyn slid away from her and walked along the edge of the bed, little feet pattering on the floor. Nyssa groped on the nightstand, but her fingers didn't encounter her digital interface as she expected. Pushing the covers back, she padded sleepily after her daughter.

"Where are you going, Miss Mischief?" she asked, yawning. Brooklyn giggled and dropped to all fours, crawling at lightning pace down the hall and across the living room. "Darshan, block." Darshan obediently trotted in front of the infant and lay down directly in her path. Brooklyn paused, then turned to crawl around the dog. The momentary pause was enough to allow Nyssa to catch up and scoop her up into her arms. "Gotcha!" She pried her interface from a tiny fist surprisingly strong for its size and tucked it behind her ear. For a dizzying moment, she was looking at herself from outside her body as she accessed the cameras installed in their apartment to give her a better view. It usually took her a few moments to adjust, but she was used to it by now. Brooklyn squealed and laughed, leaning over so hard that Nyssa nearly dropped her. "Goodness, child, you are going to end up on your head." Nyssa leaned back to counterbalance and held on tight until she reached the nursery. Her attention was drawn back to the bedroom as Jameson awakened and began calling for her. She deposited Brooklyn safely into one of the cribs and went back to retrieve her son. As she brought him into the nursery, the girl immediately stood, holding onto the siderails and peeking over the top at her mother. Nyssa quickly stripped the pajamas and diaper off Jameson. She cleaned him up and put on a clean diaper, then ducked back over to the crib to take Brooklyn off the top of the railing. With a sigh, she set the girl down on the carpeted floor instead. Brooklyn immediately crawled off, but Nyssa kept an eye on her while she finished getting Jameson dressed.

She finished and set Jameson down on the floor while she got clothes out for Brooklyn. The girl was on her feet, using the side of the crib to steady herself as she toddled along the bottom. A grin spread across Nyssa's face, and she crouched down on the carpet.

"Are you walking over there?" she observed in excitement. Brooklyn grinned and let go of the crib, taking several wobbly steps towards her mother before falling on her diapered butt. Unfazed, she slowly got back on unsteady feet and took several more steps, reaching for Nyssa, who picked her up and spun her around delightedly before she set her down on the changing table. Brooklyn clapped her hands, looking very pleased with herself. Nyssa shook her head with a smile. "You are going to be running all over the place soon, aren't you? You're not going to be six months until next week." Brooklyn giggled and poked her fingers into Nyssa's mouth. "Stop growing so fast!" Nyssa scolded playfully. She deftly stripped the pajamas and soiled diaper, then dressed her while trying to keep her on the table, despite Brooklyn's best efforts to crawl off. With a sigh, she set the girl down on the floor.

By the time she finished scrambling some eggs and slicing up fruit, the twins had crawled into the kitchen and emptied the cupboard of all the pots and pans. Humming to herself, she picked them up and situated each one in a high chair with a plate full of food, then busied herself putting away the dishes scattered over the kitchen floor. She finished cleaning up, poured herself a cup of coffee, and sat down at the table for a moment. Darshan sat attentively beside her, eyes watching intently. Nyssa sighed.

"I suppose you still need to go outside, don't you?" she said ruefully. Darshan whined softly. With a sigh, Nyssa got to her feet.

* * *

Half an hour later, everyone was dressed, fed, toileted and appropriately caffeinated. While the babies played on the floor of the living room, Nyssa began warming up with some easy yoga stretches. As if sensing that their mother was involved in something that didn't include them, the twins immediately crawled in her direction. Nyssa shifted her weight forward from an Adho Mukha Shvanasana, but found Jameson crawling underneath her while Brooklyn climbed on her back. She moved onto her knees instead. Jameson pulled up to his feet, using her arm as a guiderail, then leaned forward into her shirt, pulling at the edge of her collar in a wordless request. With a chuckle, Nyssa shifted into a lotus position to let him nurse. Sighing, she gave up on trying to get any of her yoga routine in for the day.

It wasn't long before the expected knock came at the door. Nyssa answered it with a smile.

"Thanks again for agreeing to watch them," Laura said in greeting as she came into their apartment. Gracie and Nate followed close behind, while a nervous-looking Lila hung by the doorway. She was dressed in a tailored suit with a skirt and looked far older than her fifteen years. Behind her, Gabriele hovered impatiently. Behind them in the hallway, a sheet was thrown over a large object.

"It's my pleasure," Nyssa assured her. "Happy to help on such an important day." She glanced over at Lila. "Do you have your pitch ready?" she asked. Lila swallowed and shrugged.

"I was up all night practicing it last night. I just hope they can see the potential, and believe in it enough to give us funding," she said nervously.

"Even if they don't, just remember, there are other investors in this city that will be able to see what you envision," Nyssa said comfortingly. "This isn't the last chance you'll ever have for funding. And if they can't see the genius in your work, they aren't the right investors anyway." Lila took another deep breath and nodded.

"All right, girls, let's go," Laura said brightly, ushering them out the door. "To make a good impression, early is on time and on time is late."

* * *

It wasn't long before Nyssa had Nate and Gracie set up at the newspaper-covered table with small canvases and paint. Brooklyn and Jameson were set up in their high chairs with paper and finger paints, stripped down to diapers. The creative project kept them occupied for about twenty minutes, and then Nyssa popped the twins in the bathtub for a quick clean-up while the two older kids played in the sink. She got the babies dressed again, then cleared the table of the painting supplies and set out a morning snack. Getting the twins dressed again, she had a moment to breathe while everyone hungrily dug into the food she had set out. Then another knock came at the door, unexpected this time, and she opened it to a Tony radiating frustration, Aaron clinging to his pant leg.

"Can you watch Aaron for a few hours?" he asked. "I'm working on a time-sensitive project, and I can't seem to get anywhere with him there today." Nyssa nodded, and gestured into the apartment.

"We're having a snack, Aaron," she addressed the little boy. "Do you want some apple slices and cheese?"

"Skip the cheese, we're cutting out dairy," Tony said quickly. "Thanks." He tossed her a salute and walked away down the hall.

* * *

The toys, usually kept neatly in a bin in the living room, were strewn across the floor as the five children found things to play with. Nyssa mostly left them to their own inventive play but hovered nearby in case of squabbles over toys or toddler meltdowns, which were not rare occurrences.

"Oh, it looks like Jamie is playing with that horse right now, Gracie. Can you find something else to play with? You can have a turn when he's done. No? Okay, can you offer him something else to play with, then? Oh, that's very kind, thank you. No, Brooklyn, gentle hands with our friends, gentle hands."

"Auntie Nyssa, I'm bored," Nate complained. Nyssa nodded at him.

"It's not much fun hanging out with the babies, huh?" she commiserated. He shook his head. "Here, I think I have something you might enjoy. You'll need to keep the pieces away from the little ones so they don't put them in their mouths and choke on them." She presented him with a bin, and his face brightened as he looked inside.

"Monster Truck Legos?!" he exclaimed in excitement, picking up a piece to examine it. "Awesome!"

"Why don't you take them to the dining room table so the babies don't try to steal them?" Nyssa suggested, gesturing in that direction. Nate nodded and scampered in that direction. He dumped the plastic blocks directly onto the table. Nyssa surveyed the babies happily playing – at least for the moment – and went into the kitchen to start on lunch. As soon as she left the room, she heard Jameson's familiar whimper start. Grabbing her Wakandan wrap, she tied him snugly to her back, then set about cooking lunch again. By the time she finished portioning the food onto five small plates and cleared the dining room table of toys, an outraged wail was coming from the direction of the living room. Nyssa waded in to separate Aaron and Grace. Grace was crying and clutching a toy possessively, and Aaron was wailing. Nyssa got them both calmed down after several minutes, then picked up Brooklyn and herded everyone in to eat.

By the end of the meal, Jameson was rubbing his eyes and Brooklyn was growing fussy. Bits of chicken and zucchini were scattered on the floor. Darshan was lying in his customary spot while they ate. He would not attempt to eat any of the food on the floor unless Nyssa told him he could. After making sure every diaper was clean, Nyssa lay down mats in the nursery between the cribs for the other children and turned on Shuri's Wakanda projector to help them relax and nap. The twins were still accustomed to nursing down for naps. She situated herself in the rocking chair and settled in with both of them, taking the moment to rest and enjoy the African scenes projected around them as well. Just as the children were dropping off to sleep, an alarm sounded overhead.

"Avengers, Assemble. Avengers, Assemble." Brooklyn fussed at the sudden loud noise, and Nyssa rubbed her back, trying to settle her down. Jameson remained asleep, and she set him gently down in one of the cribs while bouncing Brookyn comfortingly. Aaron whined, and Grace sat up, eyes wide. Nyssa sighed as someone else showed up outside her door and went to open it before Wanda could even knock. She extended her arms expectantly, and Wanda handed Petra to her.

"I'm sorry. I'll be back for her as soon as we're done with whatever the crisis is this time," she promised. Nyssa nodded understanding.

"Good luck!" she called after Wanda as she rushed away. With a sigh, she carried Petra back to the nursery and rolled out another mat. It took some time for everyone to get settled down again, but eventually they did fall asleep. For a moment, she closed her eyes and sent a thread of consciousness towards her husband. The alert had her slightly on edge, wondering what they had encountered and if he were in danger. She found him, not far away, but somewhat baffled and alarmed. A burst of adrenaline as he focused on a threat, hands gripping his assault rifle. Not wanting to distract him, Nyssa pulled her awareness back from him. At least thus far, he had not been hurt. Nyssa went back out to the living room and flopped wearily on the couch. Nate, who had been happily playing with the Legos, abandoned the pile on the table and brought his creation proudly over to her.

Nyssa went back out to the living room and flopped wearily on the couch. Nate, who had been happily playing with the Legos, abandoned the pile on the table and brought his creation proudly over to Nyssa.

"See what I made?" he asked, proffering a pile of haphazardly stacked bricks with two wheels on the bottom. Nyssa smiled and leaned forward, taking the bizarre vehicle in her hands and exploring the details with fingers used to finding out information by touch.

"Wow," she commented. "Can you tell me more about it?" Nate eagerly began pointing at different parts of his handiwork.

"Here is where the driver sits, and then over here are all the guns, and then this part at the top is for my dad to shoot arrows, and then this is where the wings pop out so it can fly…."

* * *

"….Protect it from axes that hack. Then the Lorax and all of his friends may come back." Nyssa closed the book and set it beside her on the couch. Grace and Nate sat at rapt attention, listening. Brooklyn, Jameson and Petra sat among the toys, playing while Nyssa's voice washed over them. Aaron was sitting in the corner, focused on the sensory bin she had set up for him, but she knew that he still heard. Nyssa suddenly stood and rescued an errant Lego piece from Petra. "How did you get ahold of that?" she chided. Petra protested, reaching to get the block back, but Nyssa shook her head at her. "That's not safe for you, honey." She stuck the piece safely away in her pocket. Her bird's eye view through the camera caught Petra pulling an identical Lego out of thin air and examining it closely. She scooped Petra into her arms. "I know that looks so interesting, doesn't it? It can hurt you, though. What do you think of this?" She handed Petra a larger block, and the girl reached for it, dropping the Lego. The bright pink interlocking block fit perfectly in the little girl's hand. Petra turned it over in her hands, intense green eyes inspecting it closely. She held out the other hand, and an identical block appeared in her palm. She held it up triumphantly to Nyssa, who grinned at her. "Look at that! Look at you, making more blocks." Nyssa took the block from her, turning it over in her hand. She could tell no difference between this block and the one she had given Petra. "That's amazing. Can you make another one, but this time, make it blue?" Petra stared at her with wide eyes for a long moment. She looked speculatively down at the pink block in her hand, and her little face screwed up in concentration. A moment later, another block popped into existence, this one closer to purple than pink. Petra laughed and kicked her legs. Nyssa set her back down on the carpet and rescued the lost Lego piece. A suspicious smell informed her that Brooklyn needed a clean diaper. She monitored the living room over the camera while cleaning up her daughter, watching in fascination as Petra produced more blocks. By the time she came back from changing Brooklyn, a large pile of blocks had accumulated on the carpet at Petra's feet. They were all the same size and shape, but different colors, varying from hot pink to baby blue to vibrant yellow, and many variations in between. A few of them were even multicolored, with garish splashes of contrasting colors. Nyssa shook her head in amazement.

* * *

Laura arrived later that afternoon, with a somewhat glum Lila and an annoyed Gabrielle.

"Nate, Grace, your mom's here!" Nyssa announced. Both children remained absorbed in what they were playing with, and didn't run to her or even look up. Shaking her head with a smile, Laura went inside to collect her children. Nyssa turned her attention to the teens. "So, how did it go?" she asked gently. She could see that neither girl was happy with the outcome. Lila shook her head.

"Like you said, they couldn't see my vision," she said ruefully. Gabriele rolled her eyes.

"They were willing to give you $3 million," she reminded Lila. Lila shook her head.

"On the condition that we charge half a million dollars per unit, and they wanted to be in charge of distribution. And they wanted us to make people pay for the food, like it was some kind of glorified vending machine! That's missing the point entirely. I'm not trying to make it cheaper for corporations to do business, I'm trying to feed hungry people," she argued.

"I still say we should have taken the deal. Once we had enough sales to pay back the original investors, then we could start donating units wherever you wanted," Gabrielle reasoned. "And we could afford it." As they debated, Tony returned to pick up Aaron. He paused for a moment, listening to the girls' disagreement.

"I think we just have to keep looking," Lila said with a sigh. "There has to be someone with money who can see what we want to do."

"Which is what?" Tony asked bluntly. Lila and Gabriele turned to face him, and Lila's eyes widened.

"We have a solution to two problems at once," she informed him eagerly. "Our food recycler gets rid of food waste and turns it into edible food. We can clean up garbage and feed hungry people at the same time." Tony's eyebrows rose.

"You have a working prototype?" he asked. Lila nodded, her expression brightening. She gestured for him to follow her out into the hallway.

"Miss Shuri helped us with the final calibrations," she explained. She pulled the sheet off to reveal her creation. Tony's eyebrows rose. The rectangular object was half the size of a vending machine, with a digital display panel taking up much of the front, and a small window beneath it. On the back was a door with a handle. Lila proudly scrolled through the images on the display. "We have about fifteen different preprogrammed options, but if you put some food in through the chute in the back, it can analyze the molecular composition and add it to the list of selections." Tony gave her an impressed look.

"All right. Let's try a… cheeseburger." He jabbed his finger at the image on the display. The machine whirred and hummed, and a hamburger materialized behind the window. Tony pushed it up and grabbed the food. He took a tentative bite and chewed slowly. "Okay. A little dry, but not bad." He tried another bite, looking up at the ceiling thoughtfully. "Could use a little more seasoning."

"I can fix that," Lila offered. She opened a panel on the side of the machine, poking at the screen inside to adjust the settings. "Okay. Try one now." Tony took a bite of the second burger that appeared, chewed, then nodded.

"Okay. I'm on board. What's your business plan?" he asked.

"We need a factory to begin manufacturing on a larger scale," Gabriele jumped in before Lila could respond. "With automation, we could make each unit for approximately $1500 in raw materials, plus programming and loading in the element pack. We planned to charge $2000 per unit, and for every three units purchased, offer one at a…. deeply discounted rate."

"No, for free," Lila disagreed. Tony frowned slightly.

"Well, that's not a way to make any money," he pointed out.

"The point isn't to make lots of money," Lila maintained. "It's to reduce waste and feed people."

"Yes, but your business will have much greater influence if it's solvent," Tony pointed out. "Plus, you're not factoring in insurance, utilities, employee wages, marketing, legal, or your own salaries." He pointed at the food recycler. "Your idea is genius. Now we just have to get other people to buy it. What if we had two different models? One more basic model, with just a few food options, but still can create through the reverse engineering option, that we can offer to small businesses, local government, that sort of thing. Then a deluxe model that we can sell to corporations, with all the bells and whistles, something they would be willing to pay through the nose for. I don't think it would even be that hard of a sell, once we point out how much they would be saving once they no longer need to use waste disposal services or cater in for business meetings." He paused and contemplated the recycler thoughtfully. "Have you considered any industrial or manufacturing applications of this technology?" Lila and Gabriele exchanged glances, and Lila shook her head.

"No, sir. We were mainly focused on food," she admitted. Tony nodded.

"And that's an excellent place to start." He folded his arms over his chest and frowned slightly. "Tell you what. I'll start you off with… twenty-five million. That should be enough for a factory, your assembly equipment and a few employees, enough to get this enterprise off the ground. In exchange, I want ten of my own recyclers, 15 percent net profits and permission to expand the technology into other applications as I see fit. Agreed?" Gabrielle was looking a little dazzled, but Lila frowned and crossed her arms over her chest.

"How does all of that help us feed hungry people?" she asked pointedly. Tony raised his eyebrows at her.

"Make it your first marketing campaign," he suggested. "Put a few units around the city in strategic areas. Once people figure out what they are and what they can do, I guarantee there will be buzz. Then, once you're established, you can donate a couple units wherever you want, even ship them internationally for droughts, hurricane relief, wherever you see the need. Do we have an agreement?" He extended his hand towards the teenage partners, inventor and entrepreneur. Gabrielle shook his hand enthusiastically. Lila did not look completely convinced, but begrudgingly extended her hand to Tony. "Great. I'll set up a meeting with Pepper and you can get all the details sorted out." Laura emerged from the door with Grace and Nate in tow.

"Mom, Mom, we got our funding!" Gabriele announced excitedly. "Mr. Stark is going to fund us!" Laura looked slightly startled.

"I'm a little hurt you didn't come to me right away," Tony commented. Laura shrugged.

"That's not what they wanted," she said simply.

"Mr. Stark, I didn't mean any offense," Lila said. "I just wanted to prove that my idea was good, and that we could get funding on its merits, not just because we're friends with Tony Stark."

"It's a good idea," he reassured her. "Hell, the potential in this technology is frankly mind-boggling. I think $25 million is a very fair price tag for what I'm getting out of the deal."

* * *

Nyssa was still picking up the toys in the living room when Bucky got home.

"Dada!" Brooklyn climbed awkwardly to her feet and toddled unsteadily towards him.

"Look at you!" he said, and swung her up into his arms. "Who gave you permission to start walking?" he teased, touching the tip of her nose lightly. She giggled and grabbed his finger, looking very pleased with herself.

"Yeah, she's been working on that all day," Nyssa informed him tiredly. "And I'm sure Jameson won't be far behind. What was the alert? Did you guys stop whoever it was?

"We did," Bucky confirmed, bouncing Brooklyn. Jameson crawled over and pulled up to a stand using Bucky's pant leg as support, reaching his arms upward. He bent down and scooped up his son in his other arm. "Some ass – I mean, people - were threatening people in Central Park with Chitauri weapons. Some of which still worked. We got the weapons confiscated and the perpetrators apprehended with just a couple casualties." Nyssa raised her eyebrows at him, and he got the distinct impression she was wondering if it would have been different if she had been there. He decided to change the subject before she could dwell on it. "How was the day with the kids?"

"Exhausting." She put the last of the toys away in their place, then sat down heavily on the couch. Bucky smiled down at her. Perhaps his job had not been the hardest that day.

"Want to order some pizza?" he suggested. She sighed but smiled wearily at him.

"You do know how to sweet talk a girl," she replied.

* * *

Thanks to karina001 and DarylDixon'sLover for your feedback.


	33. The Trouble with Seraphina

**Disclaimer: Marvel Characters are property of Marvel. Original Characters are mine. Just for fun, not for profit.**

* * *

 **The Trouble with Seraphina**

Nyssa finished putting finishing touches on her makeup, ran a brush through her hair and put in her earrings. Satisfied with the results, she turned off the camera over her vanity table. Heading back out to the living room, she bent over the couch to kiss Bucky. Darshan followed Nyssa, sitting down at her side when she stopped. Balaur was perched on the back of the couch next to him, staring curiously at the flickering images on the screen.

"The kids are asleep, fingers crossed they'll stay that way until I get back. I'll try to be back before midnight," she assured Bucky. He shrugged.

"Stay out as late as you want," he encouraged her. "You haven't been out with your friends in how long?" She sighed.

"Months," she admitted. "I think the stars have to align just right for our schedules to match up nowadays. I just feel bad going out with the girls when you just got back after spending the week at the International Planetary Defense Summit."

"I just got home from a week of listening to politicians and diplomats talk in circles," he countered. "I plan to watch some television that doesn't make me think too hard, preferably with explosions, then get some good sleep in my own bed. You go have fun." She kissed him again, and he reached up to caress her face and draw her in, deepening the kiss. She made a small noise deep in her throat.

"That seemed more like a "please stay" than a 'go have fun'," she noted after he let her come up for air. He smiled lopsidedly.

"Just think of it as a promise. For later," he quipped, and raised an eyebrow at her, his fingers trailing behind her ear and brushing against the earrings that he had given her. "Nice earrings."

"Yes, I do like them," she replied. "Tonight's the first night in a long time that I'm not going to be in danger of someone pulling them out. I almost couldn't get the right one in; I think the hole was starting to close."

"Got your phone?" he queried.

"Of course," she replied.

"Seraphina driving?" he asked. Nyssa shook her head.

"Micaela, this time," she informed him. "We're going to pick Sera up next. I hope. She hasn't been responding to my texts today. Last time we talked, she said she wasn't feeling well, but that was a few days ago. Fingers crossed she's still up for ladies' night."

"Isn't she always up for ladies' night?" Bucky commented. Nyssa shrugged.

"She works hard. Everyone has their preferred ways to unwind. She's been remarkably more settled since she and Steve started dating, though. I've gotta go. Mic and Rani are outside. Love you."

* * *

Micaela pulled up outside Seraphina's apartment building, and Nyssa ran up to get her friend. She had been here so many times, it was not difficult to navigate even without her eyes, but the interface widget allowed her to tap into the building's closed-circuit cameras in case of any unexpected obstacles. Her pace slowed as she got closer to Sera's apartment, her expression becoming concerned. She knocked on the door. When there was no response, she used her copy of Seraphina's apartment key to let herself in. Inside the apartment was dark, and the distinctive smell of sick lingered in the air. Nyssa quickened her pace down the hall to Seraphina's bedroom. She found her friend sprawled in the bed, sheets and blankets tangled around her.

"Sera?" she called softly. Sera grunted softly into her pillow. Nyssa touched her hand and was immediately hit with an overwhelming wave of nausea and pain. "Oh, honey. How long have you been this sick?"

"Mmm…Wha' day is it?" Sera mumbled into her pillow.

"It's Friday," Nyssa informed her. "The day we were supposed to go out, but I can see you're not in any condition to go anywhere." Seraphina groaned and rolled over.

"Shit, it's been almost a week," she croaked, then paused to lick her parched lips. "It's all kind of a blur. I haven't been able to keep anything down, and my whole abdomen has been just tied up in knots. I thought it was a bad case of food poisoning, but it's not getting better. Maybe I'm just dying." Nyssa exhaled and shook her head.

"You're in no shape to go out. I think you might need a hospital," she declared. "Can you walk? Micaela's outside in the no-parking zone." Sera nodded and pushed the covers back. She swung her legs weakly over the side of the bed and sat up with a moan. Nyssa tried to help, but Sera barely made it halfway up before falling back on the bed.

"Just give me a minute," she muttered feebly. "Wait til the room stops spinning and my stomach stops doing cartwheels, and then we'll try again." Nyssa shook her head.

"No, I think you need an ambulance," she said firmly. "I'll let Mic know that she and Rani can go without us."

* * *

Micaela was hesitant to leave them behind, but Nyssa was insistent. She sat on the edge of Seraphina's bed until the paramedics arrived. Sera tried to get on the gurney under her own willpower, but wobbled and started retching as soon as she moved. The paramedics assisted her into the cart and got her strapped in. She groaned as soon as they started moving her. Nyssa quickly grabbed her hand and walked quickly beside the cart, helping to soothe and calm the raging uncomfortable sensations in her friend's body.

"Ma'am, you can't do that," one of the paramedics admonished. "You can follow behind." Nyssa shook her head.

"I need to stay by her," she replied resolutely.

"We said you can follow," the other paramedic said impatiently.

"She stays," Seraphina argued suddenly from the gurney. "Right there." Nyssa could feel the paramedics' irritation, but they didn't continue arguing. The elevator was a little crowded, with Nyssa nearly climbing into the gurney with Sera, but they were soon loaded into the back of the ambulance. Nyssa tried to find a place to ride along where she wouldn't be in the way, but could still stay in contact with Sera. She wasn't quite able to as the paramedics set about taking vital signs, starting an intravenous access, hanging a bag of fluids and pressing sensors on her to monitor her heart. Sera moaned as Nyssa broke contact.

"Can you give me anything for the nausea? Or the pain?" she rasped, shifting uncomfortably in the gurney.

"Maybe," one of the paramedics said. "Is there any chance you could be pregnant?" Seraphina snorted and shook her head.

"No, I have an IUD," she informed them. They exchanged glances. One of them shook his head slightly.

"It's okay," Nyssa interjected, reaching out to take her friend's hand again. "I can help with that." Sera sighed as Nyssa eased the pain and nausea once again. A few minutes later, she was asleep.

* * *

After they arrived at the emergency room, there was another flurry of activity as they settled her into a room. There soon began a carousel of providers in and out of her room; nurses and lab techs and assistants. They took blood samples and urine samples, hooked her up to monitors, pulse oximeters and blood pressure cuffs.

"Feeling any better?" Nyssa asked, squeezing Sera's hand affectionately. Sera nodded. She was lying in the hospital cot with her eyes closed, but Nyssa knew she wasn't sleeping.

"You should know," she murmured without opening her eyes. "You're the one blocking it."

"Just doing what I can," Nyssa replied modestly. Sera chuckled and shook her head, opening her eyes to stare at the television on the wall.

"I wonder what their tests showed?" she mused out loud. "I didn't think they could do tests for food poisoning."

"I'm guessing we'll find out pretty soon," Nyssa pointed out.

They had reached the "hurry up and wait" portion of the hospital stay, as nobody entered the tiny emergency room cubicle for the next forty-five minutes. Seraphina dozed on the bed. Nyssa took advantage of the lull to update Bucky about the change in plans for the evening.

"Is ladies' night boring already?" Bucky answered the phone. Nyssa made a noise that wasn't quite a laugh and shook her head, even though he couldn't see her.

"There was a change in plans," she informed him. "I'm at the hospital with Seraphina."

"What? Why? Is she okay? Are you okay?" His voice shifted quickly from teasing to concerned.

"I'm fine," she assured him. "Sera is sick. They're still working her up and we haven't seen the doctor yet. I don't know if she's going to be admitted, or what their plan is, but we might be here for a while. I just thought I'd let you know. I didn't want you to worry."

"Okay." Bucky sounded mollified. "Do you need me to bring you anything?"

"If it gets super late, I might need my pump," she admitted. "But for right now, I'm okay. Babies still sleeping?"

"Back asleep," Bucky confirmed. "Jameson was awake a little bit ago. He was upset you weren't here, but I got him back down."

"That's good." Nyssa glanced up as someone entered their cubicle. "I think the doctor's here, so I better go."

"All right. Call if you need anything. Love you."

"Love you too." Nyssa ended the call and squeezed Seraphina's hand. Her friend stirred and looked over at the woman who had joined them.

"Ms. Grey, I'm Dr. North," she introduced herself. "I'm going to admit you for observation overnight. You are very dehydrated, and your electrolytes are dangerously low, so we need to replace your magnesium, sodium and potassium in addition to rehydrating you. We'll give you medicine to help the nausea. I'm also concerned about your abdominal pain, so we're going to get an ultrasound to make sure your pregnancy isn't ectopic. We'll see how you're doing in the morning, get some blood tests, and maybe then you can go home."

"Wait, what?" Seraphina said in shock. She shook her head. "You said something about a pregnancy, but I can't be pregnant."

"According to our tests, you are," Dr. North informed her. Sera shook her head again.

"No, that's not possible," she insisted. "I've had an IUD for eleven years. I just had a new one placed three months ago. Run your tests again; they're wrong."

"The test isn't wrong," Nyssa said softly from the other side of the bed. She immediately felt Sera's panic and disbelief focus on her, transmuting into anger.

"You knew?" she hissed at her, dropping Nyssa's hand. Nyssa rested it on the bed beside her, her expression patient.

"I always know," she replied simply.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Seraphina demanded.

"You needed to come to the hospital anyway," Nyssa pointed out. "I knew you'd find out soon enough." She smiled faintly. "I wasn't sure you'd believe me." Dr. North pulled a rolling stool up and sat down next to Sera's cart.

"The nausea you've been experiencing is something called hyperemesis gravidarum," she explained. "Some women have it for their entire pregnancy. Sometimes it gets better after a few months. It's a response to the changing hormones in your body. In all cases, it stops when you are no longer pregnant." She patted Sera's leg. "At least it's a happier reason than some bad chicken, right?" Seraphina nodded numbly, and Dr. North left. Curling up on her side, Sera burst into tears, clutching the pillow as she buried her face in it. Nyssa rested a comforting hand on her friend's side, and Sera didn't pull away. After several minutes, her sobs slowed, and she peeked up at her closest friend.

"How long have you known?" she blurted. Nyssa shook her head.

"Just tonight. You weren't the last time I saw you, but it's been, what, a couple months?" She shrugged. "You've been busy and I've been… mostly stuck at home." Sera groaned, then grabbed for the blue bag the nurse had left in the room. She retched into it unproductively, then set it aside with a sigh.

"Ugh. I don't know if I can take weeks or months of this," she moaned. She curled back on her side. "I always thought I already knew what I was going to do in this kind of situation, but… now I'm not so sure." Nyssa took her hand in both of hers.

"At this stage, you still have options," she pointed out. "And you know I'm here for you, no matter what you decide." Seraphina made a face at her.

"You can't tell me you don't have an opinion of what you think I should do. What you want me to do," she said accusingly. Nyssa nodded.

"Of course I do," she agreed. "But it's not my life, so it's not my choice." Seraphina's face crumpled again, her tears starting back up.

"But no matter what I choose, everything's going to change!" she wailed. "I don't want them to change! I liked things the way they were!"

"And this is unexpected, and scary, and overwhelming, and hard," Nyssa confirmed. "All of your feelings are valid." Seraphina buried her face in her pillow again, her shoulders shaking. Nyssa stood up and walked around to the other side of the cart to rub her back comfortingly. "You still can choose how you would rather things change, since they have to." Sera's sobs quieted somewhat. Nyssa offered her the box of tissues from the table. Sera took a handful to wipe her face and blow her nose. She had calmed everything but her shaky breathing by the time a new person wearing scrubs appeared.

"Seraphina Grey?" he asked, and she nodded. "I'm here to take you to ultrasound." Sera nodded again and grabbed for Nyssa's hand.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Nyssa asked.

"Don't you dare leave me," Sera replied. Nyssa squeezed her hand in response, pacing beside the cart as the tech pushed it down the hallway.

"I wouldn't dream of it," she reassured her.

* * *

"…implanted in the back of the uterus, there. And we can see the head, there. That movement right there is the heart beating. And here… did you want to know whether it's a boy or a girl?" Their ultrasound tech was chatty, keeping up a running commentary as she took pictures and measurements. Sera was staring at the screen with a slightly glazed expression, her shock just beginning to subside. She shook her head.

"I'm still processing the fact that it's a baby," she grumbled. The tech looked surprised.

"Looks like you're measuring about twelve weeks along," she observed, typing something into the computer. Seraphina frowned and looked over at Nyssa.

"I thought you said…" she began accusingly.

"The twins grew at twice the normal rate, because of the serum," Nyssa reminded her. "If it's Steve's, that would probably be the case, too."

"Of course it's Steve's," Seraphina snapped. "Who else would it be? I haven't been with…" She stopped mid-sentence, shock setting in again. "Oh, God. Steve. How am I going to tell Steve?" She lapsed into silence as the oblivious tech continued her chatter, pointing out a tiny foot here and a little fist there. Sera's grip on Nyssa's hand was tight and unyielding.

"All right, we're all done, so there you go!" The tech cheerfully shoved a long strip of paper into Sera's lap. Sera let go of Nyssa's hand to pick it up.

"What's this?" she asked.

"Oh, those are your copies," the tech replied. "Congratulations, and good luck!" Seraphina stared at the glossy ultrasound images, and the tears started up again, streaming silently down her face as the transport tech wheeled her cart back to her assigned cubicle. Nyssa settled back into her chair beside Sera's bed. For a long time, Seraphina didn't say anything. Suddenly, she chuckled, taking Nyssa by surprise.

"How crazy is this, though?" she asked. "I never wanted to have kids. You never thought you would be able to. Now it's possible we could be raising kids together." Nyssa nodded with a smile.

"And I'm already basically running a daycare," she pointed out. "Convenient." Seraphina laughed softly. Her smile vanished after a moment.

"What am I going to tell him?" she whispered, almost too quietly for Nyssa to hear.

"That's up to you," Nyssa replied gently, "but I'm usually a fan of the truth." She couldn't see Sera's eyeroll in response, but she could see the tie-dye ripples of her emotional reaction. She leaned forward earnestly. "This is Steve we're talking about. He's not going to desert you after five years and leave a child without a father." Sera snorted.

"Oh, I know. I bet you twenty bucks that he proposes on the spot," she said sourly. "He always does the 'right thing'."

"And that's not what you want?" Nyssa asked. "Proof that he'll stand by you, no matter what?"

"Is that what I want?" Sera replied. "Do I want to be proposed to in the hospital while I feel like death, and then spend the rest of my life wondering... Did he marry me because he loves me and wanted to, or because I was carrying his child and it was the right thing to do?" She shook her head. "Besides, I've seen enough divorce proceedings to know that a ring isn't proof of anything."

"It would be to him," Nyssa pointed out quietly. She covered Sera's hand with hers. "You found a good one, Sera. I know this is intimidating, but you don't have to face it alone."

"No, because I have you," Sera said stubbornly. Nyssa shook her head at her.

"Of course you have me, but that's not what I meant, and you know it," she sighed. The curtain pulled aside, and the nurse was back, hands full of bags of fluid.

"Seraphina, I'm still waiting to hear which bed they have for you on the observation unit," she informed them. "I'm going to hang more fluids and get some magnesium started, okay?" Seraphina nodded.

"Okay," she agreed. Nyssa stood up.

"While she's doing that, I'm going to go find a bathroom," she stage whispered. Seraphina nodded, laying back and closing her eyes while the nurse busied herself hanging bags on her IV pole.

* * *

"Hey, Phi." Seraphina's eyes opened abruptly at the familiar tenor, and she sat partway up in the bed, her head swiveling towards the opening in the curtain.

"Steve," she breathed, then groaned. Her body punished her for the quick motion with a wave of nausea, and she grabbed for the blue bag. There was nothing left in her stomach to come up, but that didn't stop the painful cramping or the retching. She heaved for several minutes, only half-aware of him sitting down in the chair Nyssa had vacated, his hand landing warm and comforting on her shoulder. The nausea subsided, and she finally lay quiet. She looked up at Steve, half-expecting his expression to be one of revulsion, but he only looked concerned. He brushed a stray curl away from her damp forehead and tucked it gently behind her ear.

"I was going to ask how you were doing," he noted, "but I guess that answers that. Have they figured out what's making you sick?" She gazed up at him and slowly nodded.

"They did," she replied. She paused and swallowed down a ripple of queasy anxiety. "It's a condition called hyperemesis gravidarum." She watched him carefully, waiting for his reaction, but he didn't seem to recognize the term or the implications.

"So they know what it is," he observed, looking relieved. "Do they have a cure, or at least a treatment?" Seraphina let out a quick breath that wasn't quite laughter.

"I think there are some things to help manage the symptoms," she said slowly. "But there's only one cure, and that's to deliver the baby." That was clear enough. Steve's eyes widened, and his eyebrows nearly crawled into his hairline.

"Baby?" he repeated. "You mean you're…" Seraphina let out a shaky breath and nodded.

"I'm pregnant," she confirmed. He sat back in the chair, his expression stunned. Sera thought she saw panic and disappointment in his eyes.

"Didn't you say we shouldn't worry about that?" he recalled. Pulling away from him slightly, she wrapped her arms protectively around her torso.

"Supposed to be more than 99% effective, but that's not 100%." She glanced over at him quickly, then looked away. "Guess we beat the odds." Steve took a deep breath, but Seraphina forged ahead, not looking at him. "But you should know that I don't expect anything from you, if you don't want to be a part of this. I won't even ask for child support. I make enough, I can manage." As she spoke, Steve's eyebrows shifted down and together, and the gleam in his eyes slowly drained away, leaving a stony mask.

"What are you saying?" he asked carefully. Sera gestured vaguely.

"I'm just saying, you know, sometimes it's better to end things earlier, if they're going to end, rather than letting people get attached and hurt when things fall apart later on. Especially, especially when kids are involved." Given the events of the past week and the life-changing news she had gotten tonight, perhaps it wasn't surprising that she wasn't her usual eloquent self. Steve was sitting with his arms folded over his chest, his expression blank.

"Is that what you want?" he asked woodenly. "Are you… breaking up with me?"

"I certainly hope not." Both Steve and Sera looked up in surprise at Nyssa, who had appeared at the end of Sera's bed. She shook her head. "I would really hope that two of the people I care deeply about aren't about to make a mistake they'll regret for the rest of their lives."

"Nyssa, this isn't about you," Seraphina grumbled. Nyssa nodded.

"I know that. And if you're bound and determined to blow up this relationship, I'm not going to be able to stop you. But because I'm not in the relationship, I can see things that you don't. You're both too afraid to admit that you're both crazy about one another. Sera, you're scared that if you let yourself depend on him, he'll leave, but he's not your father. Give him a chance to prove that he'll stay by your side. Steve, you feel guilty about the feelings you have for her, but loving her isn't betraying what you felt for Peggy. She would be happy if you found your happiness and were able to move on and live your life." Nyssa paused and shook her head. "It's rare enough to find a deep and abiding love in this life. You'll certainly never find it if you run away whenever you catch a glimpse of it." Steve and Seraphina both stared at Nyssa for a long time, then looked at each other.

"Is it true?" Steve asked quietly. "Is she right?" Sera sighed and looked down.

"Is she ever wrong?" she countered. She looked back up at him hesitantly. "I know I've never really talked about my dad. He walked out on my mom and I when I was six. I never saw him again, and I never found out why. It destroyed my mom. She worked three jobs to support me, and she never even dated again. I swore I'd never let myself fall into that trap, of depending on a man for support, stability. And I never did. I was never even tempted to. Until you." She closed her eyes, tears slowly trickling out from under her eyelids. "You're like this great rock, and it's so tempting to anchor myself to you…" She trailed off, sniffling a little and wiping the dampness from her cheeks.

"I feel like there's a 'but' hanging there," Steve observed.

"But… it's scary, and new territory, and I don't know what the hell I'm doing!" she confessed, with a choked laugh that was almost a sob. "And now there's this on top of it!" She gestured down towards her abdomen. Steve leaned forward and wiped the wetness from her cheeks.

"This is all pretty new for me, too," he admitted. "I don't know what I'm doing, either. But I want to figure it out with you." He stood up suddenly, pushing the chair back out of his way, and knelt down on one knee. With one hand, he pulled a velvet box out of his pocket and opened it to reveal a small, simple diamond ring on a gold band. "Seraphina, I love you. I want to be a husband, a father… a family… if you'll have me. Will you…" He faltered as Seraphina was already shaking her head, hands over her face.

"Stop, just stop," she pleaded softly. "Don't finish that question. Not yet." Steve snapped the ring box shut and slipped it back into his pocket, standing up.

"Is that because you don't have an answer yet," he asked shakily, "or because you know the answer will be one I won't like?"

"I don't want to be asked right here, right now, like this," Seraphina explained. "I'm not one of those girls that has dreamed of this moment her entire life, but I'd still like… a little romance, maybe." She smiled tearfully up at him. "But don't worry about the answer." Steve let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Sera's fingers interlaced with his and pulled him closer.

"What do you need from me right now?" he asked. Seraphina smiled and sniffled.

"Just hold me," she breathed. Steve eyed the narrow cart, for a moment contemplating climbing onto it beside her, but opted to pull the chair closer instead, leaning over the bed and scooping her into his arms. She buried her face in his chest, clinging to him. After a moment, she pulled her head away to look up at him. "How is it that you just happened to have a ring with you?" Steve looked self-conscious, the color climbing in his cheeks.

"I've been carrying it for a couple weeks now," he admitted. "It's… the only thing I have left of my mother's." Seraphina made a wordless noise, tears dampening his shirt as she pressed her face into his shoulder.

"I can see I'm no longer needed here," Nyssa quipped from behind Steve. Seraphina looked up at her, startled. In the moment, she had forgotten Nyssa was there. Nyssa clasped Sera's hand. "I'll catch a cab home. I think Steve's got it from here." With a smile and a wave, she left. Sera felt something in her hand, and opened it up to see a folded-up twenty dollar bill. She began to laugh. Steve looked at her with a confused frown.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

* * *

 **Thanks to DarylDixon'sLover, karina001, LadyAmazon, Qweb and guest for your feedback!**


	34. Marvel-ously Ordinary

**Marvel-ously Ordinary**

Bucky sponged a last coat of stain to his latest project, then stood back and regarded it with a critical eye. The twins' birthday was in just a couple weeks, and he had been hoping to finish his gift for them on time. Some of his earliest happy childhood memories centered on a rocking horse. It made him smile to be able to give a similar gift to his own children, in the hopes they would create their own memories of carefree happiness. Horses were traditional, of course, but his family wasn't exactly traditional. He lightly touched the tip of the outstretched trunk and pressed down, making the wooden elephant rock back and forth, ears flared out at the right angle and shape for little hands to grasp. Satisfied, he tossed the stained sponge in the garbage and left the toy to dry.

* * *

Nyssa set a plate down in front of each twin at the table, sitting across from each other in booster seats. She looked over as Bucky came in the door and smiled.

"Did you get done what you wanted to?" she asked. Bucky nodded.

"Finished," he confirmed. "Is that lunch?"

"Nothing fancy, just sandwiches with carrots and hummus," she replied, gesturing towards the counter. "Everything's still out if you want to help yourself." He grabbed the empty plate she had left out for him and began piling lunchmeat and cheese on bread. "Did you want milk, water or juice with your lunch?" Bucky glanced up with a frown, slightly confused by her question, but realized after a moment that she hadn't been asking him.

"Meuk!" Brooklyn declared.

"Doos," Jameson decided. Nyssa brought back two sippy cups and set one in front of each twin. Bucky gave her a quizzical look.

"I thought they were using open cups now," he noted. Nyssa smiled lopsidedly.

"They were, but now Brooklyn has started a phase where she likes to throw everything on the floor, and then Jameson follows suit," Nyssa informed him. As if on cue, Brooklyn picked up half of her sandwich and hurled it to the floor. Nyssa slid her plate out of reach before she could flip the rest off the table, and sighed. "When you start throwing your food, that tells me that you're done with it, honey." Brooklyn fussed, reaching for the plate. Slowly, Nyssa slid the plate back into her daughter's reach. "Last chance. If you throw anything again, then you're all done with your lunch." Brooklyn eagerly grabbed the other half of her sandwich and took a big bite. Nyssa picked up the sandwich remnants scattered across the floor and threw them in the garbage. Bucky sat down at his place at the table. Nyssa lowered herself into her place with a sigh.

"Rough morning?" Bucky asked. Nyssa propped her head up on one hand, elbow resting on the table.

"Not significantly more than most mornings," she replied tiredly. "I have some things that I want to get done this afternoon, so do you mind if I tag out for a couple hours?"

"Anything I can help with?" Bucky asked curiously.

"Maybe," she replied, shrugging. "I've decided that I've been the de facto daycare long enough that I should probably file for licensing and make it official. There's a lot of paperwork involved, though, so I could use a little help filling everything out. But first I need to go talk to Tony about some of the licensing requirements." Bucky nodded slowly. Brooklyn shoved her plate violently towards the edge of the table, but Nyssa's other arm shot out and snagged the plate before it could fall off and slid it safely to the center. "I should be back in a couple hours. Think you can handle naptime?" Bucky nodded.

"Yeah, we'll be fine," he assured her. She smiled and got up. She kissed him goodbye, then kissed both Brooklyn and Jameson on the forehead.

"I'll be back a little later," she assured her children. "Daddy will stay with you. I'll see you in a bit." She waved as she slipped out the door.

"Mommy!" called Jameson, reaching a hand towards the door. His face fell. Brooklyn turned around in her seat to look at the door, her expression distressed. Bucky finished his sandwich and got up to prowl through the cupboards. There was a package with five cookies left in it. He snagged it and went to sit back at the table. Both Brooklyn and Jameson's faces lit up, their sadness at Nyssa's departure forgotten.

"Cookie, cookie, Daddy!" Brooklyn called, reaching her hands towards him.

"Cookie!" Jameson echoed. Bucky gave them each a cookie with a grin.

"Fankoo," they chorused, and happily began eating their treats. Bucky finished his cookie and grabbed a second one out of the package. He was nearly done with it when Brooklyn finished her cookie and clapped her hands.

"More, Daddy! More cookie, pees!" she requested.

"More, more, pees," Jameson echoed. Bucky looked down at the one remaining cookie regretfully.

"Well, there's only one cookie left," he observed out loud, picking it up and showing it to them.

"Me, me! Cookie!" Brooklyn insisted.

"Cookie!" Jameson agreed.

"Okay," Bucky decided. "So, you each get half." He broke the cookie in half and presented each half to his children ceremoniously, satisfied with his solution. He was caught off guard as they both dissolved in tears.

"Bwoke! Cookie bwoke!" Brooklyn wailed. Jameson just sobbed. Bucky sighed.

"Okay, naptime, then," he declared.

* * *

Nyssa had expected to find Tony in his workshop, but to her surprise found him in one of the large rooms downstairs. It had previously been dedicated to storage, with a dozen half-completed projects that Tony had lost interest in and abandoned. These had been cleared out, leaving the room empty save for a large control console on one side, just inside the door. As Nyssa entered, Tony had a panel open in the bottom, his head and shoulders swallowed up by the metal framework. In one corner, Aaron was building a colorful tower with his magnetic tiles.

"Is this the 'time sensitive project' you've been working on the past few months?" Nyssa inquired. Tony grunted, then slowly extricated himself from the wires and crawled out from the console. He stood up, wiping his hands on a rag.

"It is," he confirmed. "And you're just in time for a trial run. Not the first one, but I'm hoping the last one."

"You didn't need me to watch Aaron on such a momentous day?" she replied, her half-grin teasing. Tony shook his head.

"No, the kid has to be here for this," he contradicted her. "The kid's the reason for this." He pointed at Nyssa. "And it's all your fault." Nyssa raised her eyebrows at him.

"My fault?" she repeated, her tone more curious than defensive. Tony nodded.

"You said he's running a different operating system. Your words. Which got me thinking, how do we get systems that speak different languages to talk to each other? You need an interface. Of course, input and communication is much messier between people, with our selective perception and shitty baggage. But the basic concept is the same. So, this is my attempt at an interface. I took some of the framework from BARF – ah, HEART – borrowed some of the functionality of your cyber widget, and then took it a step further. Sound and images aren't enough, I needed to add in smell, taste, tactile sensation, the ability to interact with the program in real time." He paused, then gestured. "I can use this to see how Aaron experiences the world. If I can't get him to understand mine, then I have to try to understand his." Nyssa looked at him in surprise.

"That's… an impressive amount of dedication, Tony," she observed. He held up the glasses he typically used for HEART.

"I tried these first, but Aaron won't keep them on," he explained. He waved a hand in front of his nose. "Can't tolerate things on his face. Anywhere on his head, really. So, I came up with these." He held up two tiny round sensors. "He shouldn't even be able to feel these. I guess we're about to find out." He flashed a signature Tony grin that quickly faded and crossed over to kneel in front of Aaron. The boy was intent on his project, and Tony waited patiently until his attention shifted slightly. Tony grinned at his son. "Hey, hey, tiger. Want to catch the butterflies?" He fluttered his fingers in the air over Aaron's head, and the boy focused his attention upward at his father's hands, eyes alight. He watched Tony's hands dip and dive and flutter over his head for several moments, then suddenly reached upwards to try to capture them with his hands. He seized one of Tony's hands in his, and Tony gently brushed his other hand against his cheek, soft as butterfly kisses. Aaron dropped the hand he had caught and batted at the one that had touched him, a rare smile spreading across his face. The fingers of the hand he had just let go of flittered back and tickled the end of his nose. He made a noise that was a cross between a crow and a giggle and clapped his hands over his nose. Tony let his fingers graze against Aaron's temples, deftly depositing the sensors there. Aaron caught both of his hands triumphantly. Tony grinned at him. "Look at that, you caught them." He looked over at the tower Aaron had been building. "What's that you're working on there?" Aaron turned his attention back to the magnetic tiles. Tony moved furtively back to the control panel and tapped on the screen. He turned around and looked towards the center of the room. His eyes widened.

The middle of the room was mostly taken up by a large, crystalline tower. It bore a passing resemblance to the tower Aaron was constructing, but with much more detail, intricate fractals patterning within each panel. Dark lines pulled through the structure, out the top and to the sides, streaking ominously into the space around it. Tony pointed at them, stunned.

"Those… those are the magnetic fields. He can see magnetic fields?" He turned to stare at Aaron, playing happily by himself, then back to the tower. Shaking his head, he went over and knelt beside Aaron. He put a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, buddy, can I have you…" Before Tony could finish his sentence, Aaron threw his arms up with a cry of protest. Tony's voice echoed loudly overhead, and the dark lines of magnetism on the tower smudged and distorted. The details in the structure faded. Tony's voice continued echoing through the room, amplified and harsh. With a howl, Aaron covered his ears, rocking back and forth. Tony pulled his hand back, his expression dismayed.

* * *

"Nooo, no nap. Mommy, want Mommy!" Brooklyn protested, twisting away from Bucky on the bed.

"I wish your Mommy was here, too," Bucky assured her. "But it's just me, so we'll have to make do. And you definitely need a nap. So come lay down." He had already attempted to get them to sleep in their cribs, but that had been a bust, as Brooklyn kept climbing out the side every time he turned his back and running over to wake up her brother. He pulled Brooklyn back into the crook of his arm and settled back on the bed. Beside him, Jameson was watching his sister's antics, his stuffed elephant snuggled in his arms.

"No nap," she insisted. "Park!"

"You need to be rested to go to the park," he informed her. "We can go to the park after your nap."

"No, park now!" she tried again. Bucky shook his head at her.

"We're not going to the park right now," he said sternly. Her face crumpled, and she wailed loudly. Jameson began to whimper beside them. "I know that's disappointing," Bucky said, rubbing her back. She collapsed into his shoulder, her tears soaking his shirt. He continued to hold her as she sobbed, rubbing her back soothingly. Jameson's whimpers faded away as Brooklyn's sobs got quieter, and gradually they both drifted off to sleep. Bucky sighed and looked down at his daughter's sleeping face. She looked so angelic when she was asleep. Jameson was snuggled into Bucky's side, one little hand resting on his father's arm, his face smooshed against Bucky's shoulder. Carefully, Bucky rolled Brooklyn over onto the bed and extricated his arm from underneath her. Moving as furtively as he had when on an assassination assignment, he got up, slipped away from the bed and crept out of the room. He stepped over Darshan, lying just outside the doorway. Only then did he allow himself a sigh of relief. Clearing the remainder of the lunch dishes from the table, he went into the living room to relax and listen for the twins to awaken. He wrinkled his nose as he picked up the remote.

"Ugh, it's sticky," he remarked out loud. "Why is it sticky?" Darshan, who had followed him into the living room, sat and cocked his head to the side, as if wondering the same thing.

* * *

It took some time, but they finally got Aaron calmed down, and he settled back into playing with his magnetic tiles, his head now free of the sensors. Tony sighed and shook his head, watching him.

"Well, that was a resounding failure," he noted sourly. Nyssa tilted her head to the side, smiling slightly.

"Do you think so?" she inquired. He gave her an incredulous look.

"My little experiment triggered a half-hour long meltdown. You don't think that was a failure?" he queried.

"I think it gave you some valuable insight into how he sees the world, so that was a success," she pointed out. "And I think the level of effort and dedication you're showing in trying to understand your son is a win for Aaron, no matter what the outcome on any given afternoon." Tony snorted.

"Father of the year, that's me," he quipped. He shook his head and began powering down the control panel. "There's a lot of time and money sunk into this little project already. I just wish I had better results."

"Frankly, I'm surprised you haven't thought about other applications," Nyssa admitted. Tony frowned at her slightly. She held up her cybernetic interface widget. "Can you make the console work with this?" Tony's expression grew thoughtful.

"It should just be a matter of updating the software," he speculated. Nyssa held it out towards him.

"I would love to be able to access that," she said. Tony took the widget from her slowly.

"What are you thinking, Crazy Train?" he asked warily. She smirked at him.

"Make the updates, and I'll show you," she promised.

* * *

The television was on, but not really holding his attention. Bucky glanced at the end table and noticed a notebook he had left there. This one wasn't dedicated to preserving memories as much as a place to jot down ideas he had before he forgot them. He flipped open to a blank page and began to sketch out a bed frame. It made little sense to keep the pair of unused cribs in the twins' room, especially since Brooklyn had repeatedly demonstrated that they could not keep her contained. Perhaps they might be more inclined to stay in bed all night if they had an actual bed to sleep in. Frowning, he traced out a few different ideas on the blank page.

* * *

"There, that should do it." Tony declared. He held the tiny interface out towards Nyssa, who reached for it, but then pulled it away. "Still not going to tell me what you're planning to do? Not even a hint? Three words, sounds like crazy?"

"Are you calling me lazy?" she teased back. He raised an eyebrow at her. "Tony, I don't have a firm plan yet, just an idea. I want to try a few things." She held her hand out. "I promise, I won't blow anything up." With a sigh, Tony placed the widget in her palm. With a smile, she slid it into place behind her ear, then turned towards the center of the room. The air rippled and thickened, solidifying into a set of swings suspended from a metal frame. A grin spread across Nyssa's face. She walked over to the swings, reaching out to touch the chain before seating herself in the swing. She lifted her feet, and it held her weight, swaying slowly back and forth. She looked around the room, and a carpet of green grass sprang up from the floor. Beside the swings, a tree erupted, casting leafy shadows as a brilliant sun shone overhead, walls giving way to blue sky. A bird flitted into the tree, landing lightly on the branch, and began to sing. Tony looked around at the scene in amazement.

"How are you doing all this?" he asked.

"I have plenty of practice using my imagination, Tony," she reminded him. "Now, with this, I can bring whatever I want to life." She glanced over to the side, and a massive climbing structure appeared, with ropes and rock walls stretching up high, and slides twisting and cascading back down to the ground. Tony gave her a disbelieving look.

"Whatever you want, but you opt for a playground?" he asked skeptically.

"I've had similar things on my mind lately," she admitted. "Probably because my usual daily companions range from just under one to a whopping six years old. But I'm just getting warmed up." The playground vanished, and they were standing on a rock overlooking a lake, waterfalls cascading into its blue depths. A gentle breeze carried the scent of exotic flowers.

"This is better," Tony noted.

"How about we add some mermaids?" Nyssa said teasingly. A splash to his left drew Tony's attention, and he blinked at the pair of exquisitely beautiful women sunning themselves on a large rock.

"Much better," he commented. One of the women sat up, and his eyes widened as he realized she had a fishlike tail rather than legs, with iridescent scales that gleamed and shimmered in the sunlight. The other mermaid dove off the rock, her tail glinting in the light that danced through the water. The sound of hooves clopping on the stone made Tony spin around, and he stared wide eyed at the equine creature approaching, a single, graceful horn twisting out of its forehead.

"Is that… a unicorn?" he asked, pointing. Nyssa's grin widened.

"It is," she confirmed. "But you know what the best part of all of this is?"

"That there's a Pegasus about to join us, too?" Tony guessed. "Maybe some fairies?" Nyssa chuckled and shook her head.

"No, not this time," she replied quietly. Tony was surprised to notice unshed tears gleaming in her eyes. "The best part is that I can see it, Tony."

* * *

A squeal drew Bucky's attention back to the bedroom, and he set his notebook and pen down to go investigate. The smell alerted him to the fact that something had gone awry before he even walked into the room. Brooklyn was sitting up in bed, rubbing her hands over her body. Beside her, Jameson was watching with interest.

"Poop, Daddy!" she announced. Indeed, her formerly clean clothes now had brown smears down her legs and up her back. The bed where she had been lying was also streaked with brown.

"Oh, Пиздец," Bucky sighed. He picked his daughter up and held her at arm's length. "Гавно." Jameson started to roll over into the mess, and Bucky shook his head at him. "No, no, no, come this way," he encouraged. "Look like it's bathtime." Obediently, Jameson crawled to the edge of the bed and lowered himself down. Bucky carried Brooklyn into the bathroom, still at arm's length, and set her down in the tub. Throwing a towel down on the floor, he began stripping her soiled clothes off, nose wrinkled in disgust.

"Yuck!" Brooklyn announced cheerfully. Jameson peered over the edge of the tub at his sister.

"Yuck!" he echoed.

"That's right," Bucky agreed with them as he struggled to get Brooklyn's shirt off without smearing her poop in her hair. "Yuck." He held the excrement-covered shirt out at arm's length, decided it was too far gone, and threw it in the garbage can, followed shortly by the matching pants. He unhooked the detachable shower head, resolving never to tease Nyssa about insisting on it again, and started a gentle spray of warm water.

"Pis-des," Brooklyn told him cheerfully as he began rinsing her. "Pis-des. Gabno."

"Ganno," Jameson repeated. Bucky sighed as he realized they had picked up his Russian profanity.

"Don't you repeat that in front of your mother, understand?" he said sternly. Brooklyn giggled.

"Pis-det!" she repeated. "Gabno."

"Gav-no," Bucky corrected, pointing to the streaks of brown going down the drain. He hung the shower head back on its hook and began soaping her up.

"Gaf-no," she repeated.

"Closer," he declared wryly. If they were going to be picking up one of his worst habits this early, the least he could do was make sure they used the profanity correctly.

"Daddy, turn?" Jameson pulled on his arm. "Water, turn." He glanced down at his son.

"You think you need a shower, too?" he asked incredulously.

"Showah," Jameson agreed. "Too. O-kay." Rinsing the soap from his hands and drying them on a towel, he stripped his son's clothes off and deposited him in the tub next to his sister. Brooklyn splashed in the water running over the base of the tub, and Bucky blinked as droplets landed on his face. Brooklyn and Jameson both splashed together, squealing with delight.

* * *

"…so I think this could fulfill the requirement of a place for athletic play, at least part of the time. I can turn it into playgrounds or forests to explore, whatever they want to go that day," Nyssa said thoughtfully. Her eyes widened as another thought occurred to her. "You could even have fight and battle simulations here, since you can interact with both objects and people."

"That did occur to me," Tony assured her. "Ah, did you mention something about an inspection?" Nyssa nodded.

"The city will have to look at the space I'm going to be using, make sure it's safe for kids," she explained.

"Well, that shouldn't be a problem," Tony said. "Let me know if there's anything you need from me."

"I will," Nyssa assured him.

* * *

Squirming, wet babies were difficult to hang onto, much less get dressed. Bucky got Brooklyn dried and dressed again, letting Jameson play in the tub for a few minutes longer for containment.

"Park now, Daddy?" she asked hopefully. Bucky chuckled and shook his head.

"You didn't forget about that, huh?" he noted.

"Park!" she insisted.

"Well, okay," he sighed. "As soon as everyone is dressed and has socks and shoes on, we can go to the park." He finished slipping her shoes on, then set her down on the floor. She ran off. Bucky stood Jameson on top of the dresser for easier access, finished toweling him off, and grabbed a shirt and pants out of the drawer. Dressing them was getting easier, now that they could help a little bit. He pulled the shirt over Jameson's head and held it while Jameson found the arm holes. He held the pants out and stepped closer. He felt little hands on his shoulders as Jameson steadied himself to step into the leg holes. He pulled the pants up into place. "There we are. You're getting good at that." Jameson's face broke into a proud grin, and he threw his arms around his father's neck, pulling close for a hug.

"Wuvoo, Daddy," he burbled into Bucky's ear.

"Aw, thanks, buddy. I love you, too." Bucky held his son for a moment, taken by surprise by the sudden random display of affection. Lifting him off the dresser, he carried him back out towards the living room. "Let's go find your shoes. And your sister." He stopped short in dismay. Brooklyn was jumping on the couch, her shirt, pants and diaper strewn in a trail across the carpet. "Brooklyn, I thought you wanted to go to the park," he protested. "Why are you naked?"

"Naked!" Brooklyn repeated, showing him her dimples, then turning around and wiggling her butt. She climbed onto the back of the couch, then jumped off, landing heavily on the floor on all fours before straightening up, arms reaching towards the ceiling. "Pis-detss!" she announced.

"You've got that right," Bucky said ruefully.

* * *

 **I'm not a huge fan of the "incompetent father" trope; raising kids is legitimately hard enough without making any parent an idiot. And you know I wouldn't do that to Bucky anyway. Or Tony, for that matter.**

 **Yes, Nyssa helped Tony rename BARF. HEART stands for Hippocampus-Enhanced Augmented Recall Therapy.**


	35. Birthdays and Transitions

**Disclaimer: Marvel Characters are property of Marvel. Original Characters are mine. Just for fun, not for profit.**

* * *

 **Birthdays and Transitions**

"Hold still, just a few more seconds," Bucky urged with a grimace, trying to hang on gently to the handful of hair he had clutched in his left hand as the small head it was attached to bobbed and wove and twisted in front of him. He set down the hairbrush with his right hand and grabbed a toy phone that had been discarded on the table. "Hello? Hello?" he said, holding the phone up to his ear. "Yes, she's right here." Brooklyn had half-turned to give him a puzzled look. He proffered the phone to her. "It's for you," he informed her solemnly. Her eyes widened, and she took the phone from him, clapping it to her ear.

"Hewo?" she answered. Bucky quickly finished gathering the rest of her hair into a second ponytail on the right side of her head, and deftly wrapped it with a tiny binder. "Hi, Mommy!" Brooklyn took the phone away from her ear and looked down at it, pushing the buttons and listening to the various noises it made. Bucky carefully tied delicate ribbons the same shade of blue as her dress around her pigtails, then stepped back to survey his handiwork.

"Okay, you're done," Bucky announced. He lifted his daughter off the chair and set her down on the floor. "Go show Mommy."

"Mommy, I done," Brooklyn announced into her phone, then ran off. She nearly collided with Jameson, who peeked around the corner at Bucky.

"Daddy," he grinned, and ran over to throw his baby arms around Bucky's knee. He was dressed in a pair of baby jeans and a sage green shirt that tipped his large hazel eyes more towards green. Bucky scooped him up, and Jameson snuggled into the crook of his neck, one arm snaking around Bucky's neck and holding on.

"Hey, there's the birthday boy," he said with an affectionate smile, ruffling Jameson's hair. It was getting very shaggy, hanging into the boy's eyes, but Nyssa was adamant that they weren't going to cut it until Jameson wanted it cut. Right now, he wanted it long, "wike Daddy." It was hard for Bucky to argue against that. Especially when the thick waves were legitimately adorable.

"Okay, I think we're ready," Nyssa announced, coming into view with Brooklyn in her arms and a bag slung over her shoulder. "Everyone has shoes, everyone's dressed, I have the diaper bag, Mic is catering… am I missing anything?"

"No, I think we're all set," Bucky confirmed. "Are we bringing Darshan along?" Nyssa shook her head.

"He's not a fan of the virtual reality room. Nothing smells the way he expects it to. And since I can see there, I don't need him." She grinned, still thrilled that she could navigate in the virtual environment as she did before she had lost the use of her eyes.

"Fair enough." Bucky offered her his free arm. "Shall we?"

* * *

Tony's new virtual reality room had been in heavy use since he had first revealed it to the rest of the Avengers two months ago. Most of them didn't have the fine-tuned control over it that Nyssa did – apart from Wanda – but Friday ran most of the simulations with a few verbal prompts and descriptions. Nyssa had managed to sweet talk Tony into letting them reserve it for the afternoon. He had muttered something about needing to construct more rooms, but relented.

For the party, Nyssa had opted to keep it relatively simple. The room had become a green field dominated by an elaborate play structure, ringed with picnic tables. The artificial sun was shining overhead, not a cloud in the blue sky. Trees reached their leafy fingers skyward, their shadows sprawling lazily along the ground. Micaela and her four children were already there. Mackenzie was helping her mother set up the refreshments for the party, while her other three children were testing out the play equipment. Nyssa set Brooklyn down, and she immediately ran over to the play structure and began climbing up the climbing wall. With a grin, Nyssa went over to greet her friend.

"Are you kidding me?" Micaela greeted her. "This is an indoor party. We are in a building. I open the door and we're here." She gestured broadly to the green field around them. "I feel like I stepped through some kind of portal, except it's really pouring outside." Nyssa laughed.

"It's definitely a bit startling at first," she admitted. "Though most things in my life seem to at least border on the strange, so I guess I'm used to it." Micaela chuckled and shook her head at her.

"Like having year-old twins that can already climb a rock wall?" she asked dryly. Nyssa grinned and turned to see Brooklyn swarming up the side of the play structure, her tongue sticking out in concentration.

"Among other things," she agreed. She brightened as the door opened and two more people joined them. "Oh, good, Sera was feeling up to coming."

"Unca Steef!" Brooklyn called from the top of the tower, jumping up and down and waving her arms wildly. Steve grinned and waved Still looking up at Brooklyn, Steve was caught off guard by the little pair of arms that suddenly wrapped around his leg. He looked down to see Jameson grinning up at him.

"Hey, buddy," Steve said affectionately, ruffling Jameson's hair. The boy released his leg and reached his arms up towards him, and Steve scooped him up. "Happy birthday!"

"I'm so glad you could make it," Nyssa said with a grin as she reached them. "How are you feeling?" The last half of her question was directed at Seraphina, who smiled weakly.

"Well, I'm all ondansetron-ed up and armed with saltines and ginger, so we'll see," she sighed. "It's nice to have a reason to get out of the house. I'm afraid I haven't been much fun lately."

"Hey, you're still amazing," Steve chided, rubbing her back. Jameson reached over and patted Sera's face sympathetically.

"Sad," he noted woefully. Sera covered his tiny hand with hers and smiled at him.

"Honey, nobody expects you to be the life of the party while you're busy growing another human," Nyssa said with an expansive smile.

"I'm not talking about the life of the party," Sera said with a sigh. "I'm barely functional. I put in half-days at work, I'm at the doctor's office twice a week, and I have to request recesses during arguments because I have to go throw up."

"Eight hours are not half days," Steve reminded her. Jameson twisted in Steve's arm, and Steve set him down on the ground. He ran back towards the playground.

"It's half what I'm used to doing," Sera retorted.

"That sounds really hard," Nyssa said sympathetically. "Sounds like you need someplace comfy to sit down." She tilted her head slightly, and a thickly cushioned wicker couch sprang into existence under a nearby tree. Seraphina let out a disbelieving laugh.

"Are you kidding me?" she said, shaking her head. "Is that some kind of optical illusion?"

"It's real," Nyssa assured her. "Try it out." Looking less than convinced, Sera made her way over to the couch and slowly lowered herself onto the cushions. She shifted her weight tentatively down to test it before leaning back and settling in.

"This is actually really comfortable," she commented in surprise. Nyssa grinned and sat down next to her.

"Is it okay if I say hello?" she asked tentatively, gesturing towards Seraphina's rounded abdomen. There was no doubt any longer that she was pregnant. Her belly had grown quickly, a startling contrast to her tall, thin frame. Sera chuckled.

"Go right ahead," she allowed. "Just don't tell me anything. I'd rather wait until they're on my outsides to meet them and find out all those other fun details." Nyssa put her hands gently on the swell of her friend's belly.

"Are you sure?" Nyssa teased. "You don't even want to know – "

"Nope," Sera replied, cutting her off. "None of it."

"Well, for what it's worth, they seem healthy," Nyssa commented. "Strong." Seraphina snorted.

"I could have told you that from the kicks," she said dryly.

"Mommy, mommy!" Nyssa's attention was pulled away from her friend as Brooklyn ran up to her. She grabbed for Nyssa's hand and tugged. "Come on, come on, watch me!" With an apologetic grin at her friend, Nyssa allowed herself to be pulled away.

"Can I get you anything?" Steve asked, leaning over her anxiously. "Something to eat or drink?" Seraphina shook her head, tilting it back to look up at him.

"I'm good for now," she assured him. "This is comfy enough that I might just take a nap. Give me a kiss and then go have fun." Obediently, he bent to kiss her, then joined Bucky at the side of the playground.

"Hey," Bucky greeted him. "Glad you could make it."

"Happy to be here," Steve replied. Folding his arms over his chest, he watched the children playing. Pietra, Aaron, Grace and Nate had joined the twins and Micaela's brood on the playground, and their adults were congregating around the food. Aaron discovered the sensory cave that Nyssa had designed on the underside of the play structure and vanished into it.

"How much are you freaking out right now?" Bucky asked with a sly grin. He knew his friend, plus he had been in Steve's shoes not so long ago. He knew what was probably going through the other man's mind.

"On a scale of alien army attacking the city to angry purple giant that wants to wipe out half the life in the universe, I'd say I'm a solid fighting a robot army in a floating country," Steve admitted grudgingly. Bucky chuckled.

"Well, when the panic subsides, if you need anything, you know I'm here, right?" he asked pointedly. Steve glanced over at him with a half-grin. "In fact, I have boxes full of practically new but outgrown clothes and a barely-used crib that I expect you to take off my hands." Steve's eyes widened slightly.

"Buck, didn't you make that crib yourself?" he recalled. Bucky shrugged.

"I made two of them. I'd love for at least one of them to get some use," he replied dryly. He reached over and clapped Steve on the shoulder. "Hungry? It's a kid-friendly menu, but Mic's cheesy pig things are pretty tasty."

"Ravenous, actually," Steve admitted. "My last four meals have been cereal, because it's the only food that doesn't have a smell that makes her nauseous." Bucky let out a groan that ended as a chuckle.

"Well, come on. I told her to make plenty extra."

* * *

The last of the guests trickled in as Shuri arrived, sweeping grandly into the room with gifts tucked under her arm. She looked around with interest at the artificial reality. She waved at Nyssa on the playground with an expansive grin, then joined the other adults by the food.

"Is this your work?" she asked Tony, gesturing expansively around them. He shrugged.

"Dr. Taylor designed the setting, but the program is mine," he confirmed. "Why? Are you jealous you didn't invent it first?" He grinned at her. She rolled her eyes.

"I will admit that it's impressive," she conceded. "The practical application possibilities are, well, rather mind-boggling." Tony nodded.

"There's definitely been a lot of interest," he confirmed. "I've had bids from the Army, the Navy, the Marines, Stanford, Harvard, Columbia, Johns Hopkins, Perelman, the adult entertainment industry…." Shuri's eyebrows went up.

"You are using them for combat scenarios?" she noted in surprise. "Do you have safeguards in place to prevent injuries or fatalities?"

"He definitely doesn't," Steve volunteered from the other side of the refreshment table. "My arm is still sore from the scenario we ran last week."

"That was a valuable training exercise," Tony countered defensively. "We perfected all of those maneuvers." He shook his head. "I mean, we are still in the Mark 2 version. Any weapons fired by virtual combatants are programmed to be harmless, but injuries caused by the environment are still a possibility. Though so far, we have been casualty-free. Mostly."

"I see," Shuri said thoughtfully. "Does your algorithm allow for backpropagation in the neural network? Are you using asynchronous programming to allow for so many unique interactions within the program?"

"Preemptive multitasking, actually, but that's not a bad idea," Tony admitted.

"Would you let me look at your code?" Shuri asked eagerly. "I could probably develop the safeguards you need if you're going to be marketing it to military organizations."

"Well, I don't know," Tony hedged suggestively. "I don't let just anybody parse my code. I'm just not that kind of guy…" Shuri raised an eyebrow at him.

"Really?" she retorted. "That isn't what I heard."

"Are they still speaking English?" Steve whispered to Bucky, who grinned.

"Mostly," he replied.

* * *

Nyssa was pushing both Brooklyn and Pietra in the swings, delighting both in their joy and in the smiles she rarely got to see on their faces.

"Higher, Mommy! Faster!" Brooklyn shrieked. Pietra screeched agreement. Nyssa grinned and complied. She looked down as Jameson tugged at her shirt, his face screwed up in distress.

"What's wrong, Jamie?" she asked, scooping him up in one arm and continuing to push the girls with her other hand.

"No aminals," he said with a frown. "Where aminals?"

"Oh, honey," Nyssa said sympathetically. "This is a pretend place. There aren't any living animals. Do you want some pretend animals?" He furrowed his brow at her. She nodded towards the edge of the playground. He looked over in that direction and caught a glimpse of a fuzzy brown bunny hopping along the border. She set him down, and he chased after the little white tail as it darted towards the tree. It wasn't long before he ventured back, fuzzy brown bunny clutched in his hands and held at arms' length. He glared up at his mother.

"Fake," he accused, holding the rabbit up towards her. She laughed softly. She knew what he meant. The program rendered everything as faithfully as it was capable of. The bunny appeared quite alive, with wiggling nose, twitching ears and soft fur, but it could not simulate the living energy that an actual rabbit would have. While visually convincing, for Nyssa the difference was glaring. Apparently, her son could also perceive the distinction.

"Yes, it's fake," she admitted. "It's a simulation. It's pretend." Jameson dropped the rabbit, his head drooping forward sadly and shoulders sagging. The bunny scampered off. "That makes you sad, huh?" Nyssa picked him up and held him close. "I'm sorry, honey. Next time, we'll go somewhere they have real animals, okay?" He whined and buried his face in her neck. She patted his back, alternating between comforting him and pushing the two girls in the swings.

* * *

"…question is, would that completely compensate for the nocebo effect?" Shuri asked thoughtfully. Tony frowned and popped a caramel-covered apple slice into his mouth, chewing contemplatively. Bucky shook his head at their conversation and wandered over to where Nyssa was getting Brooklyn and Pietra down from the swings. Brooklyn crouched down, growling like a tiger, and Pietra shrieked, then giggled as she ran away. Brooklyn gave chase.

"Have you gotten any food?" he asked. She shook her head, shrugging.

"I've been a little busy," she admitted. He twined an arm around her waist, pulling her in the direction of the refreshments.

"Mommy needs to eat, too," he reminded her.

"I'm sure there will be leftovers," she demurred, but allowed him to move her towards the food and the small crowd milling around it.

"Hey, Happy Birth Day, Mama," Laura greeted her with a hug. "Congratulations on everyone surviving the first year!"

"There's been some questionable moments," Bucky joked. She grinned and pulled him into a hug, too.

"Well, you two are doing a great job," she said encouragingly. She glanced over at Lila and Gabriele, who were eagerly filling their plates with food, and over at the playground, her eyes quickly finding Grace and Nate. "Brace yourself, though. It gets harder from here." Bucky sighed.

"Yeah, I've been getting an inkling," he admitted.

* * *

"…and I think one of our recyclers would really help to streamline your business, both with the catering and the food trucks," Gabriele chattered at Micaela, who was listening with a tolerant expression. Lila scowled at her adopted sister.

"Would you knock it off?" she snapped. "Not everything has to be a sales pitch, you know." Gabriele stared at her, stung. Lila turned and stalked over to sit under a tree. She picked at the food on her plate. Nyssa sat down on the other side of the root, her own plate of food in hand. Lila glanced at her, and her expression shifted to embarrassed guilt. A single tear trickled down her cheek, and she dashed it away angrily. Nyssa didn't say anything at first, focusing on her food instead. Lila picked at her food, blinking her eyes frequently.

"Starting up your new venture is a little more complicated than you thought it would be, isn't it?" Nyssa asked gently. Lila's face contorted for a moment, and she wiped more tears from her cheek, then sniffled.

"We got a notice from the Food Worker's Union threatening to take us to court, and, uh, another one from the Teamster's Union. Apparently trying to make sure there's enough food for everyone and that garbage can be properly disposed of will put too many people out of work," she said bitterly. She set her plate down and buried her face in her hands. "I just wanted to help people, but apparently I'm hurting them, too. I wish I'd never invented the damn thing."

"That does sound very challenging," Nyssa agreed. "Overwhelming, even." She set her plate down and edged closer to Lila. "You know, the funny thing about introducing a revolutionary new technology is that, in order for things to move forward, certain things have to be left behind. It creates change, and people don't like change. They prefer the familiar, they like the way things have always been. But that doesn't mean that's the best way. Innovation is still a good thing. It keeps us moving forward as a society."

"So, what am I supposed to say to all the people my innovation is going to put out of work?" Lila asked. "Too bad, so sad, sucks to be you?" Nyssa chuckled, but shook her head.

"They are seeing you as competition," she replied. "But I think with a little brainstorming, you could present them with ways that you could partner with them using your tech to help make their jobs easier, rather than making their jobs obsolete. And you could always hire some of them, as your business expands." She leaned in closer conspiratorially. "I would make sure to hire a really good lawyer, though. I can recommend a few, if you need that." Lila snorted, but her eyes and cheeks had dried.

"I guess I just didn't imagine this was going to be so hard," she lamented. Nyssa nodded. Jameson climbed into her lap and tugged at her shirt. Nyssa pulled him in close and allowed him access before continuing.

"The beginnings of worthwhile things are often very messy," she concurred. "It requires effort, and focus, and often involves a lot of pain. Kind of like giving birth. Were you there when your mom had Gracie?" Lila nodded, looking over at her sister on the playground. "So you know it wasn't easy for her. But if she hadn't gone through all that, you wouldn't have your youngest sister. I know this is hard, but I believe that you have enough strength and focus and resilience to birth this gift to the world." Lila took a deep breath and nodded resolutely.

* * *

"Hey, kids!" Elijah's baritone boomed across the playground. He grinned as he lugged two huge armfuls of brightly wrapped packages towards the table already piled high with gifts.

"Gampa!" Brooklyn and Jameson chorused, making a beeline for the grey-haired man. Jameson wrapped his arms around Elijah's legs, while Brooklyn tried to climb him.

"Whoa, whoa, hold on, let me put your presents down first," Elijah laughed. He deposited their gifts with the others, then scooped them up with a grin. "How's my best boy and best girl? Happy birthday!"

Bucky nodded to Steve with a grin. Steve put his fingers in his mouth and whistled. Bucky held up the cutting knife and twirled it with a flourish.

"Who wants cake?" he called out.

* * *

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday Brooklyn and Jameson, happy birthday to you!" Each twin blew out the candle on their cupcake to encouraging cheers. The applause soon turned into laughter as Brooklyn leaned forward and buried her face in the cupcake. Jameson picked his up and began licking the frosting, managing to get streaks of blue and green all over his nose, cheeks and forehead. Bucky soon busied himself with cutting up the larger cake and setting pieces out for their guests, while Nyssa distributed them. Three plates rose up in the air and floated over to Wanda, Vision and Pietra. Nyssa grinned and waved at Wanda in thanks.

"Hey, Cap, I have a favor to ask," Tony mumbled, sidling up to Steve. He finished chewing his mouthful of cake and swallowed before continuing. "I'm going to be out of the UN rotation for awhile, so I need you to go in my place at the end of the week." Steve raised his eyebrows and nodded.

"Sure, Tony," he agreed. "How long are you going to be out of the rotation?"

"Well, kinda… basically, indefinitely," Tony admitted. "Between taking Aaron to appointments, tinkering in my workshop, all the Avengers duties and contemplating my own future and mortality, I had to reprioritize. I let Fury know about it this morning." Steve blinked at him.

"Tony, are you… retiring?" he asked, shocked.

"Not retired, no," Tony contradicted. "I'll still be your Q Branch, and of course in world-ending emergencies, I am still Iron Man. But as far as the day to day operations… I'm taking a step back. You could call it… semi-retired."

"Well, all right," Steve replied. "It sounds like you've put a lot of thought into this."

"You know me," Tony said with an expansive grin. Steve nodded.

"We'll miss having you around so much," he noted. Tony shook his head.

"No, you won't," he said cheerfully. "This is still my Tower. I'm not really going anywhere. I'm just focusing on my favorite parts."

* * *

After cake and presents, the kids returned to playing while the adults milled about, chatting and laughing together. The generous spread Micaela offered gradually dwindled down to crumbs. Tony left with Aaron first, with Wanda, Vision and Pietra shortly after that. After another half hour, the Bartons rounded everyone up to go home. It wasn't long after that Jameson began rubbing his eyes. Reluctantly, Nyssa and Bucky bid farewell to the remaining guests and collected their children. After an extended bathtime, they brushed their teeth, then listened to a bedtime story while clutching their favorite presents from the day. Then, instead of heading to the master bedroom, Nyssa led them down the hall to their nursery. They stopped short in the doorway, looking at the room in surprise.

"Ta-da!" Nyssa proclaimed with a flourish. The cribs were gone. In their place was a pair of twin beds with identically carved headboards. Jameson clung to her leg, but Brooklyn immediately climbed onto the closest bed and began jumping on it. Nyssa shook her head with a laugh. "It's fun to jump on, huh? But right now, it's time for sleeping, not jumping, silly goose."

"Goose!" Brooklyn repeated, still bouncing.

* * *

Nyssa emerged from their room nearly an hour later, yawning. Bucky was watching television in the living room.

"The new bedtime routine is going to need some tweaking," she sighed. "And they both insisted on sleeping in the same bed, not separate. But they're both asleep."

"Is that so?" Bucky said, turning the television off and standing up. "Do you mean to tell me, they are sleeping and we can have the entire bedroom to ourselves?"

"For now, anyway," Nyssa said with a wry grin. "No telling how long they'll stay there."

"Then there's no time to waste." Bucky scooped her up in his arms and carried her towards the bedroom. Laughing softly, she twined her arms around his neck. He pulled her closer to kiss her thoroughly as he closed the bedroom door behind them.

* * *

 **Thanks to karina001, DarylDixon'sLover and Katherinep97 for the comments! I hope everyone is enjoying the little bit of domestic bliss for this interlude. Don't worry, we'll get back to action in a bit.**

 **Anyone want to guess what Seraphina is having? (The "they" in the chapter is the gender-neutral singular pronoun, not plural.)**


	36. The Circle of Life

**Disclaimer: Marvel Characters are property of Marvel. Original Characters are mine. Just for fun, not for profit.**

* * *

 **The Circle of Life**

Nyssa hummed along to the radio, her hips moving to the rhythm as she stirred the food cooking on the stove. She half-turned with a smile as the twins scampered through the kitchen, shrieking as Bucky came roaring behind them with his best lion impression. He scooped up Jameson, pretending to devour his tummy while the boy shrieked with laughter.

"Stop, stop, Daddy!" he giggled. Bucky lifted him high in the air over his head.

"It's the circle of life!" he sang, slightly off-key. Brooklyn jumped up and down at his feet, reaching her arms up towards him.

"My turn! My up!" she insisted. Bucky shifted Jameson to one shoulder, then bent down to scoop up his daughter. He deftly situated her on his other shoulder. Holding onto one hand on each side, he paused.

"Are you ready for… the Cyclone?" he asked. Two hands clutched at his hair, and they shrieked in delight as he spun around, faster and faster. Darshan whined and circled Bucky's legs, looking up at the children in concern.

"Darshan, place," Nyssa commanded, and Darshan obediently trotted over to the pillow in the corner of the dining room. "When the Cyclone winds down, could you set the table? They're going to be here soon." Bucky slowed his spin, beginning to feel dizzy. He lowered the kids to the floor and paused a moment until the dizziness went away. He crossed to the cupboard and began taking plates out.

"Hep, Daddy, I hep!" Brooklyn begged, tugging on his shirt. He grinned down at her.

"All right. Here. You can help by bringing these to the table," he said, handing her a stack of eight spoons. "Jamie, do you want to bring the forks?" Jameson nodded and reached for them. The eight forks filled both of his little fists, and he followed his sister over to the table. They each deposited their silver treasure on the table in a heap, then scampered away. Bucky sighed and shook his head, one side of his mouth quirked upwards in a half-smile as he set the plates in place and began sorting through the piles of silverware.

* * *

The first knock on the door came as Nyssa was carrying serving dishes to the table. Bucky opened it and raised his eyebrows at the couple on the other side.

"Welcome, come on in," he said, stepping aside and gesturing them inside. "Nice to see you on time for once, Sam." Sam scoffed, giving him a sideways look.

"I don't know what you're talking about, I am always on time," he protested. Bucky shook his head slightly.

"Early is on time. On time is late," he replied firmly. He turned his attention to Sam's companion and bowed slightly, extending a hand to her. "Izumi, it's good to see you. I'm glad you could join us for dinner." Izumi's expression was a bemused smile as she shook his hand. Before she could reply, they were interrupted by the enthusiastic patter of excited feet.

"Unca Sam!" Brooklyn exclaimed, jumping up and down and tugging on his shirt. "You bing me pesent?" Jameson hugged Sam's legs, almost knocking him off balance.

"Brooklyn!" Bucky scolded. "He doesn't have to bring something for you every time he comes over."

"No, I don't have to," Sam agreed. "But wait, what's this?" He pulled a sheet of sparkly animal stickers out of his pocket and presented them to Brooklyn with a flourish.

"Tickas!" she announced triumphantly. "Fankoo, Unca Sam." With a chuckle, Sam proffered an identical sheet to Jameson.

"Here's one for you, too, buddy," he said.

"Fankoo," Jameson echoed, immediately stopping and examining them. Bucky shook his head at Sam.

"You do realize at least half of those are going to end up stuck to my arm, right?" he asked sardonically. Sam grinned at him.

"I'm counting on it," he said with a smirk. Nyssa joined them with a chuckle and a shake of her head.

"Sam, thanks for coming," she said warmly, greeting him with a hug. "And for bringing Izumi." She clasped the other woman's hand in both of her own and smiled at her. "So nice to see you again. How are things at the hospital?"

"Some shifts are better than others," she allowed, "but overall, I like working there." Bucky crossed to the refrigerator and took out a couple bottles of beer. He proffered one to Sam, who accepted it.

"Do you miss traveling at all, now that you've got a permanent position?" Nyssa asked. Izumi shrugged.

"Sometimes," she admitted. "But right now, I have some pretty good reasons to stay." She glanced towards Sam with a private smile.

"Sam is a good man," Nyssa agreed.

"Yeah," Izumi agreed. She glanced over at Sam again, who was frowning slightly as Bucky showed him something on his phone. "I'm not sure your husband has the same opinion, though." Nyssa laughed.

"Oh, don't let their banter fool you," she reassured the other woman. "Underneath the insults and the trolling, there's nobody I would trust more to have Bucky's back. Except probably Steve." Her expression brightened. "Speaking of whom…" She crossed back to the door and paused a moment, her hand reaching out for the door, then skimming down it to find the knob. She opened it to reveal Seraphina standing there with an expectant expression, Steve hovering solicitously right behind her.

"I told you we didn't have to knock," Sera tossed over her shoulder at Steve as she maneuvered herself through the door.

"Yes, but it's still polite to knock," Steve pointed out, following close behind. He inclined his head to Nyssa.

"How are you feeling?" Nyssa asked her friend anxiously. "I made chicken with a cream sauce, so hopefully the smell won't be too strong." Seraphina chuckled.

"Honey, I'm not here for the food," she said tiredly, draping an arm over Nyssa's shoulders. "Despite what the belly would imply." She gestured to her protruding abdomen. "I'm just happy to spend the evening with my favorite people. I will eat as much as I can."

"Just let me know whatever you need," Nyssa reiterated. "You know my home is yours."

"At least that hasn't changed," Seraphina sighed, with a rueful smile. A half-stifled shriek drew everyone's attention to the back corner of the living room. Izumi was standing with a hand over her mouth and eyes wide. Jameson was standing on a chair in front of Balaur's habitat, door standing wide open. The reptile was half out of the cage, clawed feet balancing on the lower rail of the opening as he stretched his wings out, preparing to launch. His red-gold eyes were fixed on Jameson, and at first glance it looked like he was about to attack, but then Bucky noticed the sheet of stickers still clutched in the boy's hand. Izumi pointed nervously at Balaur.

"What… what is that?" she asked, somewhat breathlessly.

"That is Balaur," Bucky said calmly, trying not to spook her any further despite his frustration at the situation. "And he was supposed to stay in his habitat for the evening." He crossed to the cage and put his arm our for Balaur to climb onto. The dragon scaled it easily, perching on Bucky's shoulder and rearing up on his haunches, spreading his wings as he stared at their guests. " _A se relaxa,_ Balaur. These are friends." Balaur stared challengingly for a moment longer, then folded his wings in and settled onto Bucky's shoulder.

"I don't remember your lizard being that big before," Sam noted, pausing next to Izumi, standing slightly ahead of her protectively.

"Dragon, not lizard," Bucky corrected. "And he has definitely grown." He hadn't really been paying as much attention recently, but Balaur's wingspan had grown to an impressive meter and a half, and the weight on Bucky's shoulder rivaled Jameson's. Bucky gave Izumi what he thought was an encouraging smile. "Do you want to pet him? He loves when you scratch under his chin." Izumi was looking at the reptile with a still-slightly-terrified look in her eyes, and he got the impression she might bolt out the door. She shook her head slightly.

"No thanks, I'm good," she replied shakily. With a chuckle, Bucky walked back over to the habitat and looked reprovingly at his son.

"Jameson, why did you let Balaur out?" he asked. Jameson held up his sheet of glittery stickers.

"Shiny!" he announced. Bucky grinned.

"So, you thought Balaur would like some of your shiny stickers?" he deduced. Jameson nodded.

"Yes," he added.

"Well, that's very thoughtful of you," Bucky noted approvingly. "Why don't you put the stickers you want him to have in the cage?" Jameson painstakingly peeled a sticker up, then attempted to throw it in the cage. The sticker stuck to his little fingers, and he waved his hand back and forth, trying to dislodge it. He started to whimper, and Bucky quickly retrieved the sticker and transferred it into the habitat. With some encouragement, Balaur climbed back inside. Bucky closed the door. "I think we might have to expand your habitat soon," he noted to the dragon. Balaur snapped at the shiny sticker and ruffled his wings in something that might have been agreement.

"Is everyone hungry?" Nyssa called from the dining room, Brooklyn on one hip with arms around her neck, serving spoon in her free hand. "Food is ready."

* * *

They were soon all settled around the table. Nyssa initially attempted to seat herself next to either Seraphina or Bucky, but the twins both clamored for her to be in her customary place between them at the head of the table. Bucky ended up sitting with Brooklyn to his left and Sam on his right, with Izumi on Sam's other side. Seraphina was on the other side of Jameson, with Steve to her left. Darshan was curled up on his pillow, waiting for Nyssa to tell him he was allowed to move from his place. The first few minutes lapsed into silence as everyone dug in except for Nyssa, who busied herself cutting up the twins' food. Seraphina tried a couple bites of everything, but then quietly set her silverware down and nudged her plate subtly in Steve's direction. Nyssa paused, her head tilting slightly, although she didn't look towards her friend.

"I'm sorry," Sera said quietly. "It doesn't have anything to do with your cooking. My body just hates being pregnant." Steve rubbed her back apologetically, but pulled her plate closer to him.

"Hyperemesis gravidarum?" Izumi guessed. Sarah nodded. "How many weeks along are you?" Sera snorted and shook her head.

"That's still open for debate," she said dryly. "According to the calendar, I'm eighteen weeks along. According to my scans, I'm almost thirty-eight weeks. My OB is completely mystified, so she keeps having me come back for more tests. Lately, they've also been worried about my blood pressure, and my ankles are twice their usual size." Izumi shook her head sympathetically.

"That sounds really hard," she observed. Sera settled back in her chair, resting her arms on top of her belly.

"It hasn't been my favorite experience," she admitted. "You're so lucky you got to skip this part, Nyssa."

"I would have given anything to be able to," Nyssa replied quietly, sliding Brooklyn's plate back in front of her and setting the cutting knife out of reach. Seraphina looked chagrined. "But I know you've been pretty miserable. Can I get you your cocktail?"

"Yes, please," Sera sighed. Nyssa got up to get it out of the fridge while Sam and Izumi both gave Sera a scandalized look. Sera held up a hand. "Don't worry, there's no alcohol in it."

"Just some soda water with ginger, mint and lemon," Nyssa volunteered as she returned to the table with a glass that she set down in front of Seraphina. "It helps, so I keep it on hand." Sera picked it up and took a little sip. The men exchanged uncomfortable glances, unsure how to contribute to this topic of conversation. The pregnant pause was suddenly disrupted by Brooklyn spitting a mouthful of half-chewed zucchini back out onto her plate.

"Yuck!" she announced loudly.

"You don't have to eat it," Nyssa reminded her. "Thank you for trying it."

"Of course, last week, zucchini was your favorite," Bucky noted out loud.

"Is yucky now, Daddy," Brooklyn informed him solemnly, triggering a quiet chuckle around the table.

"Well, I think it's delicious," Steve offered. "Thank you, Nyssa."

"Fank you, Mommy," Jameson echoed. Nyssa grinned and touched Jameson's back affectionately.

"You are very welcome," she replied. She focused her attention around the rest of the table. "All of you are, any time. I always enjoy cooking for other adults, talking to other adults…."

"Kid, too," Brooklyn volunteered. Nyssa chuckled, and quiet laughter rippled around the table.

"Yes, of course, kids too," she allowed, brushing her fingers against her daughter's cheek with a smile.

"So, Izumi," Bucky began, ignoring the look Sam gave him that was half-warning, half suspicion. "Sam's mentioned you're a traveler. Where all have you traveled?"

"I've worked in Australia, England, Italy, Canada, and then since immigrating here, I've worked in Maryland, Arizona, Colorado, Minnesota, and now I've been in New York almost three years."

"Wow!" commented Seraphina. "You've certainly been a lot of places."

"My father always said I had a wandering spirit," Izumi mentioned, eyes twinkling. "I always knew I wanted to travel and see the world. So, I learned a few different languages, and investigated what careers would let me travel. I'm happy I settled on nursing. No matter where I go, I can help people."

"Does your father live close enough to visit?" asked Sera. Izumi chuckled.

"In this day and age, anywhere is close enough to visit, if you have the means," Izumi pointed out. "But most of my family still lives back in Okinawa."

"What do they think of you living so far away?" Nyssa inquired.

"My father was resigned to it a long time ago," Izumi admitted. "And my mother still hopes that maybe I'll marry a doctor."

"So what did she say when you told her about Sam?" Bucky asked curiously. Sam shot him a dirty look. Izumi raised her eyebrows and took a sip of her water.

"Well, I haven't exactly told her yet," she admitted. Sam leaned away from her, giving her a disconcerted look. "I will, I will," she insisted. "I just haven't had the right opportunity. And I want them to see how amazing you are rather than forming opinions based on a few random facts about you." Sam raised an eyebrow at her, inclining his head slightly to the side.

"So are we talking about taking a trip, then, or what?" he asked.

"Well, I am overdue for a visit home," she noted. "And Okinawa is lovely this time of year." A slow smile curved Sam's lips, and he sat back, resting his arm across the back of her chair.

"I have a question for you, Izumi," Steve jumped in. "I've been trying to help some of the citizens from Sanctuary that want to immigrate here. We've had a few successes, but a couple cases are having a harder time adjusting to life here. Would you have any tips for any other ways I could help them? What was most helpful for you in adjusting to a new place?" Izumi raised her eyebrows.

"Having my job was definitely key for me," she said contemplatively. "There was always a period of adjustment, and routines, protocols and equipment varied from place to place, but it was still a job I knew how to do." Steve nodded thoughtfully.

"That is definitely a problem for at least one of them," he mentioned. "He's a good worker, but his, ah, mutation is more obvious than most, and it's given him some issues."

"Is he good with children?" Nyssa asked. Steve looked over at her, brows knitting together in confusion.

"I'm not sure. Why?" he asked.

"I've been thinking that I could really use another set of hands with the kids, now that I'm official and Fury signed off on a childcare budget, so I can pay someone," she explained. "Send him my way for an interview so I can see if it would be a good fit." Steve smiled at her.

"I'll definitely do that," he said. "If you're looking for an extra pair of hands, he definitely is qualified." He glanced over at Sera, who was sitting with her eyes closed. "You okay, Phi?" She took a deep breath and let it out, shaking her head. Jameson leaned closer to her, his little hand patting her arm.

"Sick," he pronounced, his little face screwing up in distress. He began to cry. Seraphina shook her head was Nyssa pulled her son closer to comfort him.

"I think I'm okay," she said slowly, rubbing her abdomen on the right side. "I just don't feel right. Head hurts. Vision is going funny. I think… would it be okay if I just laid down for a bit?"

"Of course," Nyssa assured her with a concerned frown. "You can use our bed. Are you sure you shouldn't call your doctor?"

"I mean, maybe if I don't feel better in an hour or so, I'll call the OB's office," she relented. "But usually the rest helps." Awkwardly maneuvering a body that had transformed too rapidly for her to adjust easily to, she stood up. Steve stood, too, his expression concerned. She waved him away, patting his arm affectionately. "I'll be fine," she said firmly, and kissed him on the cheek. "You stay. At least one of us should be sociable." Steve hesitated, still standing as he watched her waddle towards the bedroom. Slowly, he lowered himself back into his seat.

"Have you asked her yet?" Bucky asked slyly. "I didn't notice a ring." Steve shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"I'm still in the planning stage," he admitted. "I just want it to be right. And she doesn't seem to be in a hurry. Says she's too old for a shotgun wedding." He picked up his fork and picked at the food on his plate. "So I guess the baby will just be…" He took a bite of food and chewed slowly.

"You know that doesn't matter anymore, right?" Bucky said quietly. "Nobody pays attention to that kind of thing nowadays. Except maybe nosy old church ladies."

"The important thing is that you're supporting her exactly how she needs you to," Nyssa offered, "rather than adding to her stress by pushing her to try to plan a wedding when she already has enough to worry about." Steve sighed and glanced again towards the bedroom.

"She's not the only one who's worried," he murmured.

* * *

It had been less than half an hour since Seraphina had vanished into the bedroom, but Bucky noticed Nyssa becoming more fidgety in her seat, turning her head as if looking over her shoulder.

"Mommy, sit on your lap?" Brooklyn requested, undoing the belt holding her into her booster seat and nearly knocking Nyssa's plate to the floor as she half-crawled across the table to reach her mother. Nyssa barely managed to catch the dish, but then grunted as Brooklyn landed heavily in her lap.

"Thank you for asking," Nyssa said, putting her arms around her daughter and getting her situated more comfortably. "Next time, wait until I tell you it's okay to climb on me, okay?" Brooklyn leaned back against her mother and helped herself to some of the bites of food still on Nyssa's plate. Nyssa sat back and turned her head to the side again.

"Everything okay?" Bucky asked. Nyssa's frown deepened.

"I think someone should go check on Seraphina," she said, a worried wrinkle between her eyebrows. She had barely finished her sentence when Steve was out of his chair and down the hall. He emerged from the bedroom a minute later, face white and pinched with worry.

"I can't get her to wake up," he announced anxiously. Everyone at the table stood up, except for Nyssa, still pinned under Brooklyn but looking distressed. Bucky stopped in the doorway, stepping aside for Sam, who knelt beside the bed to examine Seraphina while a tight-faced Steve hovered nearby. Her eyes were closed, and she was half-curled on her side. She did not stir when Steve called her name, or when Sam touched her shoulder. He rested his fingers just below her jaw and gave a nod of approval.

"Pulse is still strong," he pronounced. Izumi came into the room, purse in hand, removing a stethoscope and a blood pressure cuff from it as she joined Sam at Seraphina's bedside. Sam gave her an astonished look.

"You just carry all that with you?" he asked in surprise. She glanced at him as she wrapped the cuff around the unresponsive woman's arm.

"When you travel, you never know what kind of equipment they will have. I got in the habit of carrying my own, even when I'm not at work. It's come in handy more than once," she explained, settling the stethoscope's ear pieces in place. "Now shh. I need to concentrate." The room lapsed into concerned silence as she worked. The rapid patter of feet announced Brooklyn's approach, and Bucky caught her, scooping her up before she could venture into the room to interrupt. Nyssa followed, carrying Jameson, and it was difficult to tell who looked more distressed. She stopped short of the door.

"219 over 103," Izumi murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. In the tense silence, she might as well have shouted it. Sam's expression turned grim. Seraphina moaned softly, rolling onto her back, and Izumi shifted closer to eye level. "Seraphina, can you hear me?" Seraphina's eyes opened, and she focused on Izumi's face. Her lips moved as if unsure how to form words, then frowned. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and her body began to twitch and jerk. Izumi put a steadying hand on her, keeping her on the bed, her eyes focused on her wristwatch.

"What's going on?" Steve asked, not quite able to keep the note of panic out of his voice. "What's happening to her?"

"She's having a seizure," Izumi said grimly. "Any history of epilepsy?" Steve shook his head. Izumi nodded grimly. "My guess is, she's eclamptic. Somebody, call 911. She needs to be in a hospital."

"Ambulance is on its way," Nyssa replied, finally stepping into the bedroom, phone clutched in her free hand. Jameson was clinging to her, arms wrapped around her neck and legs clamped around her hips as he stared at Seraphina shaking on the bed. "Operator says they're five minutes out." Izumi nodded approvingly. Seraphina's convulsions suddenly ceased, and she lay still on the bed, her breath coming in short, loud gasps. Izumi deftly rolled her back onto her side

"Tell them she is having seizure-like activity, with the last episode lasting about 136 seconds," she instructed.

"Mommy, Sewah sick," Jameson said worriedly. Nyssa nodded seriously.

"I know, honey. She's going to go to the hospital and the doctors will make sure she is okay," she said reassuringly. Jameson looked at her skeptically, as if he didn't quite believe her.

* * *

Steve didn't quite believe her, either. He wanted to hope for the best, but he couldn't completely ignore the cold dread and panic that wove through his insides like corset strings, making it hard to breathe. Once the paramedics arrived, things seemed to move fast. Nyssa assured him that she and Bucky would be by later, once they had found someone to stay with the twins, and sent him along in the ambulance. Seraphina had two more seizures on the way to the hospital, barely coherent enough in between to talk to or acknowledge him. He hunched in the side of the ambulance, holding her hand and trying to stay out of the way of the paramedics. It had been a long time – not since before his transformation at Dr. Erskine's hand – since he had felt so powerless. At the moment, he would rather be back in his stunted and frail body, being beaten by bullies twice his size, than to sit helplessly by while the woman he loved fought a lonely battle with her own body. He pressed her limp hand to his lips. She didn't respond. Behind the oxygen mask, her face was pale.

Once they arrived at the hospital, there was no waiting. She was immediately whisked off to a room, hooked up to IV fluids, monitors for blood pressure, monitors for her heart. Steve watched as a tech took vial after vial of blood from her. She didn't seem aware of anything going on. Finally, someone wearing a white coat walked in the room.

"Ms. Grey?" he said. When Seraphina didn't respond, he looked at Steve. "Are you the husband?" Steve shook his head.

"Not yet," he admitted. "Hopefully soon." The doctor's eyebrows rose.

"Ah. I see. You are the father, though?" He gestured to Seraphina's rounded abdomen. Steve nodded, holding Sera's hand in both of his. The doctor pulled a rolling stool up and sat down at the side of the bed. "Ms. Grey is having seizures due to a condition called eclampsia. We have started some magnesium sulfate, which will hopefully reduce further seizures, but that is also most likely why she is not waking up. In addition, she has also developed something called HELLP syndrome. This can be life threatening, and she has Class 1, which is the most severe type. In cases like this, the most effective treatment is to deliver the baby. I don't know that she could handle an induction, so the most efficient way will be through a C-section, although this presents some significant risks as well, considering her severe thrombocytopenia. The records from her obstetrician are, well, somewhat confusing. But if the scans are accurate, I believe it should be developed enough to be able to survive. We will have a neonatal intensive care team on standby to increase the probability of both mother and baby surviving. Without delivering, there is a significant chance of fetal death due to the risk of placental abruption, and HELLP syndrome can have a maternal mortality rate of 30%. Do we have your consent to proceed?" Steve's eyes widened slightly, but he nodded.

"Do what you need to do," he allowed. "Just… save them." The doctor nodded and stood.

"Very good. Sign here, please. We'll be taking her to prep her for surgery shortly," he declared. "She'll be going upstairs to our maternity operating suite. Normally, we would welcome you into the operating room as well, but with a case as sensitive as this, it might be better if you stayed in the observation room." He left, disappearing before Steve even realized the doctor had never told him his name.

One of the aides showed him to the locked observation room. The surgical suite below was empty save for a nurse covered head to toe in baby blue, lying out gleaming instruments. The space was overwhelmingly bright, with glaring lights and shining steel throughout the room. Steve was more acquainted with medicine, both historical and modern, than he liked to admit, but the setup below was still somewhat intimidating. The shining steel instruments on the table looked sharp and vaguely terrifying. Under different circumstances, he might assume they were meant for torture. His anxiety peaked, and he stepped back from the viewing window to look around the room. He was alone, but there was a little cart in the corner with a plate of cookies and fruit with a carafe of coffee next to a screen. He dismissed the refreshments, too concerned to have an appetite. He turned his attention to the screen, and after staring at it for a few long minutes, determined that it was a status board. He could pick out Seraphina's initials, highlighted in a pale pink that the key told him meant she was still being prepped. Then it switched to dark blue, and a sudden commotion from below brought his attention back to the viewing window.

He was astounded by the crowd that had gathered in the room below. Seraphina lay still and small on the table in the center as a flock of doctors huddled around her like a wake of vultures. Her arms were strapped down, her airway held open by a tube, multiple bags of fluids and blood trickling into her body through tubes piercing her flesh. The window muffled noise from below, but Steve could hear enough to get the impression of frantic voices raised. Over to the side of the room, another team was prepping an incubator. Hands moved over Sera's body, and blood splattered on the floor. One of the masked surgeons lifted out a tiny infant, holding the miniature human up in full view of the window. Steve's heart stopped. A thin wail carried through the glass, announcing and protesting its arrival in the same breath. The baby was quickly transferred to the incubator team on the side. More personnel joined the circle crowded around Seraphina, and Steve realized she was still in trouble.

* * *

Bucky impatiently pulled into the parking space. Nyssa barely waited for the car to come to a stop before she was unbuckling her seatbelt and opening the door. Bucky had to jog a few steps to catch up with her, pulling her out of the way of a parked car.

"Whoa there, Doll," he chided. "This is a parking ramp. You can't get from point A to point B by moving in a straight line." He looped his arm through hers and guided her through the maze of cars and pavement.

"I know, I'm just worried," she sighed, falling into step with him.

"Me, too," Bucky admitted. "Steve's not answering his phone."

"I'm sure he has other things on his mind," Nyssa replied.

* * *

The surgical team still seemed to be frantically working, and Steve watched with his heart in his throat. He turned away, needing a moment to gather his thoughts. He paced back and forth from one wall to the other, eyes cast down to the floor but blind to the pattern in the linoleum. A knock on the door caught him by surprise. He turned to see a nurse in surgical scrubs with a small bundle in her arms and a smile on her face.

"Congratulations, Daddy," she proclaimed. "Apgar scores are looking good. She's seven pounds, eleven ounces, nineteen inches long, and seems to be a fully developed, healthy baby." He stared at her, stunned, but took the soft and squirmy blanket-wrapped bundle.

"How is Seraphina doing?" he asked shakily.

"We're still working to get her stabilized,' the nurse replied. "After that, she'll likely be transferring to the intensive care unit." Steve closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, she was gone. He turned his attention to the soft, fragile package in his arms. Wisps of soft, golden curls dusted her crown. Her eyes were closed, but beneath the tiny button nose, her little mouth was puckered in a sleepy pout.

"Steve, any news?" Steve looked up to see Bucky entering the room with Nyssa in tow. His stride slowed, eyes widening as he saw the baby in Steve's arms. Steve looked over at his oldest friend with tears in his eyes.

"It's a baby girl, Buck," he said, his voice thick with the turbulent emotions of the past few hours. "I have a baby girl." Bucky put a hand on Steve's shoulder with a grin. Nyssa crossed to the window, looking anxiously down at her best friend still in the operating room.


	37. By Any Other Name

**Disclaimer: Marvel Characters are property of Marvel. Original Characters are mine. Just for fun, not for profit.**

* * *

 **By Any Other Name**

Nyssa smiled down at the wee sleepy form in her arms, humming softly as she rocked her. The tiny fists were finally relaxed, eyes closed, breathing deep and regular. Standing, she carefully transferred the baby back to Steve's arms.

"Here you go, Daddy," she whispered, as Steve cradled his daughter against him. The worried crease between Steve's eyebrows deepened, but the baby remained asleep, sighing as she curled against his chest.

"Still not used to that title," he murmured, one corner of his mouth quirking upward in a crooked smile.

"Just wait until the first time she says it," Bucky offered with a grin, gesturing towards the infant. Steve's eyes widened slightly, and he took a deep breath. He looked from Bucky to Nyssa and back again.

"Are you heading home now?" he asked. Bucky looked apologetic.

"Just because we'll be getting to bed at 2:30 in the morning doesn't mean the kids sleep any later," he explained, then grinned. "You'll find out soon enough." Steve smiled wryly at him. Nyssa put her arms around both him and the baby in a gentle hug.

"You'll let me know if anything changes with Seraphina?" she asked anxiously. "I mean, we'll be back tomorrow, but between now and then."

"I promise," Steve replied. "Thanks for everything tonight." Bucky tossed him a tongue-in-cheek salute, then put his arm around Nyssa's shoulders and guided his wife out of the room. Steve carefully placed the still-sleeping baby back in her little bassinette, then pushed it down the hall to the nursery. One of the nurses double checked his identifying wristband against the band on the baby's ankle, then accepted the little cart and wheeled it back to the nearly-empty nursery. Most of the babies were sleeping in the same room as their mothers, but for his daughter, that wasn't an option at the moment. He left the maternity ward and headed up two floors to the intensive care unit. He stopped at the nurses station to find out which room Seraphina was in, but the nurse looked at him suspiciously.

"Are you her husband?" she asked. "Or her brother?" Steve shook his head.

"I'm her… fiancé," he lied. The nurse looked at him skeptically.

"You're not wearing a ring," she observed. "And neither was she." Steve moved his left hand behind his back guiltily.

"We have a baby together," he said defensively.

"Oh, so you're the baby daddy," she replied with false brightness. She shook her head. "Immediate family only. And definitely not this time of night. Sorry."

"Can you at least tell me how she's doing?" he asked shortly. "Is she awake? Is she… in pain?" The nurse's expression softened.

"She hasn't woken up yet," she answered. "The rest, I can't really tell you. But we're trying to keep her comfortable." Steve nodded slowly.

"Thanks," he said, and backed away. In the years since waking up in the future, he had learned a few things he hadn't realized when he was young. One of them was that, on occasion, it was okay to take a step back and regroup, assess the situation and plan your strategy for the next attack. After the day he'd had, he was too tired to fight with the nurse, but if he could find a place to get some rest, he would rally in the morning and make them let him see her. Just down the hall from the ICU was a visitor's lounge. In it, he found a few chairs, a table and a tiny kitchenette with a coffee dispenser. Folding his bulk into the least-uncomfortable chair he could find, he crossed his arms over his chest and tried to relax enough to get some sleep.

* * *

The windows were starting to brighten with the first sleepy traces of dawn when he jerked awake. He wasn't certain if he'd actually slept, but he couldn't sit in the chair any longer. Stretching, he helped himself to some coffee before heading back to the nursery. He nodded and smiled tiredly at the nurses, who handed him the baby and a bottle. He settled into a rocking chair that was much more comfortable than the one he had slept in to feed his baby girl. She seemed too sleepy to eat at first, until she tasted the bottle's contents and began feeding voraciously. Halfway through, she stopped and began fussing. He draped her against his chest like the nurse had showed him and patted her back until she let out a burp that left dampness against the cloth over his shoulder.

"How are you doing?" The nursery nurse asked. "Do you need help with anything?" Steve shook his head.

"No, I think I've got it under control," he replied with a half-smile. He lowered her back into feeding position to give her the rest of the bottle. "I suppose I should really call you something other than Baby Girl," he mused, half to himself. Baby Girl continued contentedly sucking on the bottle.

"You didn't have a name picked out yet?" the nurse asked. Steve glanced over at her, surprised she had heard his remark, but shook his head.

"We had a list," he qualified. "But hadn't narrowed it down yet." She nodded.

"I think sometimes it's easier to pick a name once you meet them," she observed. Steve looked thoughtfully down at his daughter, light blue eyes peering up at him over the top of her bottle.

"That's true," he reflected distractedly. The nurse smiled but left him in peace to finish taking care of his newborn. She gave him a chance to practice all the new skills he was learning – bottle feeding, burping, changing diapers, swaddling. She fell asleep again once he had wrapped her up tightly. He placed her gently back in the bassinette, then rolled her out of the nursery door. Once in the hallway, he pushed the portable crib towards the exit of the maternity ward.

"You're not technically supposed to take her off the unit," the nurse at the desk reminded him, and he paused in front of the doors.

"I'm just taking her to see her mother," he told her, spine straightening as he braced himself for an argument. The nurse regarded him for a moment, then nodded slightly. The doors opened before him, and he exited the unit.

He felt resolve steel his shoulders as he approached the intensive care unit. Rather than asking at the nursing station, he walked by with as much confidence as he could muster, glancing through doors to see if he could catch a glimpse of something that would tell him she was there.

"Are you here to see Seraphina?" Steve turned to see one of the nurses approaching him.

"This is her daughter," Steve said, gesturing to the bassinette, "her only living blood relative. And I'm her guardian, so I am going with her to visit."

"We don't typically allow babies…" the nurse noted. Steve took a deep breath, ready to argue his case, but she held up a hand. "…but we can make compassionate exceptions. Given the circumstances, I think this qualifies." She gestured for him to follow her and led him to a room with a closed door. She opened the door and walked quietly into the room. Steve followed, rolling the bassinette ahead of him. He stopped just inside the door, all breath leaving him. He hadn't had an asthma attack since they had given him the serum, but he suddenly felt the familiar sensation of iron bands across his chest and aching, oxygen-starved lungs as he stared at Seraphina in the hospital bed. Her normally porcelain complexion was nearly white, stark contrast against the deep red ringlets spilling across her pillow like rivulets of blood. She was surrounded by monitors with numbers and lines tracing patterns of the rhythms of her barely functioning body. Intravenous lines dripped fluids and medications into her veins. Sensors attached to wires were scattered across her forehead and scalp. In the midst of the machines and equipment all, she lay too still and quiet. He had to look hard to see the rise and fall of her chest under the blanket.

"Try to keep it to under half an hour," the nurse advised. Steve startled; he had forgotten she was there. She left, closing the door behind her. He pushed the bassinette right up next to the bed, then picked the sleeping bundle up and placed her on Seraphina's chest. The baby made a little noise, but did not wake.

"You did it, Phi," he said huskily, his voice barely above a whisper. "She's here. She's perfect. I wish you could see her. Our daughter." He paused a moment as a wave of sorrow crested, breaking against his throat. He swallowed it back down. "If I have to, I'll raise her on my own. I'll raise her to know what an amazing woman her mother was. I will if I have to. But I don't want to. Seraphina, I don't want to." His voice cracked, and this time he couldn't stop the tears that started streaming down his face. Seraphina remained motionless, and he wasn't certain whether she was even hearing him. Taking a deep breath, he forged on. "For a long time after they pulled me out of that ice, I didn't know what I wanted. Sometimes it almost seemed like… I had to choose. Like God or the universe or the powers that be had decreed that I couldn't save the world and also find love, find happiness in it. And I almost convinced myself that maybe I didn't want it after all. But now…" He took a deep breath, wiping away the wetness from his cheek. "Now, I finally know what I want. I want us to get married, I want us to be a family. I want to watch sunrises and sunsets with you. I want to come home to you after missions and wake up to you in the mornings. I want to watch our daughter grow up together. I want to keep painting you as we grow old together, to show you how you will always be beautiful to me." He paused a moment, steadying his hands on the bed rail. Her hands were lying limply on top of the blanket, and he covered one of them with his, curling his fingers protectively around her palm. "And now that I finally know what I want, I'm afraid that I might lose it. That I might lose you. Please, come back to me, Seraphina. Please come back to us." She still didn't stir, didn't respond. Her hand in his remained cold and unmoving. But from the corner of her closed eye, a single tear trickled across her cheek.

* * *

Steve stayed with her as long as he could, until the nurse informed him that his time was up and he needed to let her rest. He then returned to the nursery, pushing the baby in the bassinette before him at half the speed he had on the trip there. By the time he got settled back into the rocking chair that he was starting to think of as his, Baby Girl was starting to stir, mouthing on her tiny clenched fist with toothless gums. Despite his fear and worry, he smiled. Picking her up, he nestled her against his chest. She snuggled in and sighed softly, and he felt his heart swell. A few minutes later, she began to fuss.

A bottle and a diaper change later, Baby Girl was back asleep, snuggled against him, and Bucky and Nyssa waved at him from the hallway. Standing carefully, Steve walked out to meet them.

"How is everyone?" Bucky asked. Steve rubbed Baby Girl's back.

"Well, we're doing fine," he said with a sigh. "Phina is still upstairs. I was able to go see her this morning, but, ah… not much has changed." Nyssa looked mournful, and he thought her eyes looked a little puffy.

"I thought I might try to go see her today," she admitted.

"Good luck with that," Steve said ruefully. "They can be pretty strict about who they let in. I tried last night, but they told me immediate family only." A slight smirk tweaked at the corners of Nyssa's lips, a glint of humor in her otherwise sorrowful expression.

"I wouldn't worry too much about that," she replied impishly.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Bucky asked. "Moral support and all that?" She shook her head.

"Steve needs that more than me at the moment," she pointed out. "Besides, it's easier to sneak one person in than two." Standing on tiptoe, she brushed a kiss along his jaw before vanishing through the exit. Bucky watched her leave, then rocked himself slightly onto the balls of his feet and gave Steve an appraising look.

"So how are you really doing?" he asked Steve. The blond man sighed, dipping his head down close enough to smell the oddly appealing scent of Baby Girl's soft curls. He closed his eyes for a moment, then looked up at Bucky.

"I mean, the woman I love is still in critical condition, and if she dies, it will be my fault, so…" he shrugged slightly, then shook his head. "I just can't…." The grief and guilt rose again, swelling in his throat, and he found that he also couldn't speak. Bucky put an arm around his shoulders.

"It's not your fault," he reminded his friend quietly. Steve gave him a tolerant look.

"If we hadn't… If I hadn't… If she hadn't gotten pregnant, we wouldn't be here right now," he pointed out.

"And you wouldn't have her," Bucky said pointedly, gesturing towards the baby. "Don't get call caught up in finding fault and blaming. It's a hard trap to get out of. Sometimes these things happen. Sometimes life is shit. But you have to get through the shit to find out the amazing waiting on the other side. Believe me, I know." Steve gave him a disconcerted look. Bucky shook his head. "Besides, she could still pull through. I'll keep my fingers crossed for you. I'm pretty sure it still counts, even though they're metal." That finally coaxed a wry smile from Steve.

* * *

Nyssa walked confidently down the hallway. She had almost brought Darshan with her, but a dog was more conspicuous at a hospital, and she planned to fly under the radar. Instead, she was relying on the sensor bracelet that Lila had given her when she had first lost her sight. With some upgrades, it was able to interface with her widget and give her a better idea of obstacles in her path. She didn't need to ask anyone where Seraphina's room was; she had been able to sense her closest friend's location as soon as she had walked through the hospital doors. The nurses were distracted when she walked on the unit. They didn't notice as she strode onto the unit as if she belonged there and slipped into Seraphina's room. She nearly tripped over the chair near the bed, but deftly caught herself on the back of it and pushed it up to the side of the bed. Taking a deep breath, she took a moment to clear her mind and center herself. Then she reached out and rested her hand on top of Seraphina's, bowing her head slightly as she ventured where she had never been before: deep into her friend's mind, searching for her consciousness.

At first, it was a jumble of darkness and confusion. A muzzy heaviness pressed back against her, but she pushed onwards. Thought fragments whispered by. In the distance, someone was weeping loudly. The bright hints of Sera's awareness danced in the dark like fireflies, just out of reach. She chased after them, but they flickered, elusive as will o' wisps. Nyssa stopped her pursuit abruptly. The fragmented pieces of consciousness fluttered around her like butterflies. Rather than chasing them, she focused instead on strengthening her own presence, radiating peace and comfort. Like moths to a flame, she sensed the slivers of awareness drifting closer, attracted to her presence. She coaxed and pulled them closer, fitting invisible fragments together by feel.

"Nyssa?" She turned at the sound of her name. Seraphina was standing behind her, clad in a white nightgown, but this was not the Seraphina who had just given birth, or even the accomplished attorney that Steve had originally fallen for. This Seraphina was young, awkwardly tall with frizzy hair and braces. This was Seraphina before Nyssa had met her in college, before she had discovered her passion of finding ways of using the law to help those marginalized by the system. She stared at Nyssa with wide, panicked eyes. "What's going on? Steve sounded so scared. Am I… am I dying?"

"Good grief, I hope not," Nyssa breathed, throwing her arms around her friend. She felt more points of awareness drifting close and pulled, gathering them together, and her sense of Seraphina's presence grew stronger. "You're in the hospital. They had to deliver the baby because it was making you so sick. But don't worry, she's okay. Steve is taking great care of her. Now we just need you to get better and wake up." Seraphina pulled back to stare at Nyssa in amazement, and she had transformed into the more familiar college age woman Nyssa had met so many years ago.

"She? Her? I have a daughter?" she asked incredulously. Nyssa grinned and nodded, and Seraphina picked her up and spun her around with a delighted squeal. "Oh, I was hoping. What's her name?"

"She doesn't have one yet," Nyssa admitted. "I think Steve doesn't want to pick one without you." Seraphina sighed, and grew older before Nyssa's eyes, becoming more the ambitious professional woman.

"He shouldn't wait for me," she said firmly. "Our daughter deserves to have a name."

"Do you have a name you'd like me to tell him?" Nyssa asked. Sera shook her head, a sentimental smile curving her lips.

"He knows which ones I liked. I'm sure he will choose the one that's right for her," she said confidently. Then an impish twinkle glinted in her eye. "Of course, if he picks one he knows I wouldn't like, and I don't make it, I will come back and haunt him." Nyssa chuckled.

"I'll be sure to warn him," she assured her friend.

"What are you doing in here?" The voice of the nurse broke into Nyssa's awareness, and a hand on her shoulder jolted her abruptly out of the delicate bubble of serenity she had so carefully crafted in her friend's mind. The bubble popped, and her vision of Seraphina vanished. She sat up straighter, choking back anger at the sudden interruption. She knew she technically shouldn't be there, but it was still jarring being so abruptly torn away from her friend. "Who are you?"

"I'm the closest thing she has to a sister," Nyssa said evenly.

"What are you doing to her?" the nurse hissed. Nyssa shrugged.

"Just talking to her," she said innocently.

"Well, whatever you did, her brain activity is going wild." The nurse gestured to one of the screens. Nyssa didn't have to see the lines tracing across the screen to know that her best friend's brain was lighting up with renewed activity. The nurse was worried as she studied the pattern. "What in the world?" she mumbled to herself, radiating confusing. "I think you better go," she advised Nyssa, gesturing towards the door. "She's probably overstimulated." Nyssa disagreed with that assessment, but obediently stood and left the room.

* * *

"All right," Steve sighed. "If that's what she wants…" Nyssa nodded encouragingly at him. Moving carefully, he handed her the sleeping infant and leaned over to pick up the paperwork he had been putting off filling out. Bucky leaned in as Steve began filling it out.

"So, are you going with one of your favorites, or one of her favorites?" Bucky asked, trying to peek at what Steve was writing. Steve gave him a dirty look and moved the paper out of his line of sight.

"Neither," Steve said. "I'm picking the name that seems right for her." With a tolerant sigh, Bucky sat back and folded his arms over his chest with a grin. Nyssa rocked in the chair with the baby, a patient smile on her face. Steve finished filling out the forms, looked them over, and gave a satisfied nod. Bucky rolled his eyes.

"So much drama over a name reveal," he noted teasingly. "You do realize you need to tell other people the name so they know what to call her, right?" Reluctantly, Steve handed the form over. Bucky frowned down at it.

"Sah-oy-erse?" he sounded out uncertainly. Steve gave him a look of consternation.

"It's pronounced Seer-sha," he enunciated archly, taking the paper back. "Seer-sha Ro-sheen."

"It's beautiful, Steve," Nyssa declared quietly, rocking Saoirse with a smile. "And it suits her. I love it. Though most people aren't as familiar with Irish Gaelic, so this probably won't be the last time you'll have to explain to someone how to pronounce it." Steve grinned sheepishly and shrugged, picking up the card mounted on the nursery bassinette to transcribe her name there as well.

"You're taking such good care of that little girl," Nyssa commented as she hugged Steve good-bye. "Let me know if there's any change with Seraphina." Steve nodded.

"Of course," he promised. Bucky stepped in for his hug.

"Wish we could stay longer, but the kids need their nap and there's no way they'll sleep for Wanda," he said ruefully. "Call if you need anything."

"Will do, pal," Steve murmured back. Saoirse began fussing in the bassinette as they left. Steve picked her up and determined it was time to change her diaper once again. After she was clean and dry, she seemed content, looking around with wide eyes. He gave her a tour of the nursery, explaining to her what everything was, what it was used for. Sometimes she looked at what he held up in front of her face, but more often she focused on him, her periwinkle gaze fixed on his nose or his lips. After awhile, she seemed to tire of that, growing fitful, but she settled as soon as he cradled her against his shoulder.

* * *

By the middle of the afternoon, he decided it was time to pay Seraphina another visit. He loaded Saoirse into the bassinette to take her upstairs again. This time, the staff didn't hassle him so much about leaving the unit. He arrived on the intensive care unit and made a beeline for Seraphina's room. He paused as the nurse exited her room. She gave Steve a hard look.

"Hold on just a moment," she requested. "I'll see if she's feeling up to having visitors." Steve straightened up, his eyebrows turning question marks. The nurse vanished inside, then emerged a few moments later and gave him a nod. "Go ahead, but keep it short."

He pushed the bassinette into the room, and his heart gave a little bound as he saw that she was sitting up, the head of the bed elevated, and her eyes were open.

"Hey there," she greeted him, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Hey," he breathed, and his relief finally spilled over into a grin. "You're awake."

"I'm awake," she confirmed with a wan smile. "It's all kind of jumbled, confusing… What little I can remember is like I was stuck in a nightmare."

"Sometimes I felt that way, too," Steve said wryly. "But hopefully the nightmare is over now." He grasped her hand resting on the blanket, and this time her fingers curled back around his responsively. She glanced over towards the bassinette, and Steve suddenly remembered that he hadn't come alone. "There's someone here who's anxious to meet you," he said, trying to cover for the fact that he had momentarily forgotten the baby. Turning, he picked their daughter up, then turned back towards Seraphina with dramatic flair. "Phina, I proudly present… Saoirse Roisin Rogers-Grey." He placed Saoirse on her mother's chest, and Seraphina's arms came up automatically to hold her daughter. Saoirse made a small, contented noise in her sleep. Seraphina's eyes widened, her eyebrows nearly climbing to her hairline, and her mouth formed a small, breathless O. Tears sprang to her eyes.

"She's so beautiful, Steve," she breathed, gazing down at her. Steve smiled.

"Just like her mother," he said smoothly. Seraphina chuckled weakly.

"I dunno about that," she replied. "She has your hair. And your nose. And I haven't seen her eyes yet…"

"They're blue," Steve confirmed. "But I hear that can change." Seraphina smiled, wiping away tears from her cheek. She watched Saoirse breathe in and out, then tilted her head back to look at Steve.

"Steve, will you marry me?" she asked. Steve blinked at her.

"Ah, uh… I…." he stammered. Seraphina let out a puff of laughter.

"Look, I know I said I didn't want it to happen in a hospital, but… nearly dying kind of shifts your perspective, sometimes. And I could try the whole down on one knee thing, except right now I'm not sure I could even stand up." Her voice was hoarse and cracking, tears still in her eyes, but her gaze was steady and certain. "It doesn't matter to me how it happens, so long as we are a family. I never thought I would say this to anyone, but… I want to spend my forever with you. So, Steven Grant Rogers… Will you marry me?" Steve was still staring at her, mostly in shock. He had never even considered that maybe he could be the one asked, rather than having to do the asking. He took her hand in his and raised it to his lips, searching for the right words to respond.

"Seraphina Rose Grey, I would be honored," he finally replied. Relief flooded her pale features.

"I don't have a ring for you," she said apologetically. He grinned.

"That, I have covered," he returned with a chuckle, digging into his pocket. He produced the velvet box that he had been habitually carrying for the past several months. Removing the simple gold band with its single diamond, he slid it onto her finger. She held her hand out, looking at how the diamond sparkled in the harsh light of the hospital room. "I know it's not very big," Steve said regretfully, "but it was my mother's." Seraphina glanced up at him, startled.

"Then it's perfect," she replied. With a smile, he kissed her, careful not to wake the sleeping Saoirse still nestled against her breast.

* * *

 **Thanks to DarylDixon'sLover, LadyAmazon, heleana1, Qweb and karina001 for your feedback!**

 **Fun fact: Saoirse is Irish Gaelic for "freedom." I thought it was a fun way to make a nod both to Steve's heritage and Captain America. Plus, it's such a pretty name. What do you think of it? (Roisin is the Gaelic version of Rose, which he took from Seraphina's name.)**


	38. New Friends, Old Enemies

**Disclaimer: Marvel Characters are property of Marvel. Original Characters are mine. Just for fun, not for profit.**

* * *

 **New Friends, Old Enemies**

Nyssa opened the door to a rather startled young man and smiled at him.

"Marquis, come on in," she invited, stepping back and gesturing for him to enter. He nodded his head and stepped through the door, ducking and turning slightly sideways to fit. Through the apartment security cameras, she could see that he was tall and broad-shouldered, with dreadlocks pulled back from his youthful but nervous face. Despite his size, the sport coat he had donned seemed too large for him. "I am Dr. Nyssa Taylor. Thanks for coming. You're right on time."

"Thank you, ma'am," Marquis replied. "I'm just glad to have an opportunity." His voice was softer than she expected, with the gentle cadence of the Caribbean adding an unexpectedly soothing rhythm, like waves rolling into the beach. She gestured for him to have a seat at the dining room table. He lowered himself carefully into the chair as if worried he might break it. He seemed stiff and apprehensive; his presence colored with anxiety.

"Can I get you anything before we get started?" Nyssa offered. "Some water, perhaps some tea?" Marquis registered the question with a flash of surprise. On the stove, the teapot began to whistle.

"That's all right, ma'am, you don't need to trouble yourself," he said quickly, but Nyssa was already pouring hot water into a pair of mugs.

"It's no trouble at all," she assured him. "The twins don't often nap anymore, but today the stars aligned and they both went to sleep around the same time. I intend to savor the moment. You are welcome to also partake." She flashed him a reassuring grin and took a sip of her tea. She slid the other mug across the table towards Marquis, leaving it within easy reach but not so close as to be insistently intrusive. "But this is still an interview. So, tell me, why should I hire you to help me at Superkids Childcare?"

"Well, for one thing, I am a hard worker. I'm a fast learner. And I have a lot of experience with kids," he began reasonably. "I was the oldest of eight, and practically raised the four youngest ones. Kids always seemed to gravitate to me. And I like being around them. Adults… take themselves too seriously most of the time. With kids, you can be silly, and they don't judge you. They would rather join you. When I was younger, I thought maybe one day I'd be a teacher."

"A noble profession," Nyssa commented. "I take it life had other plans?" Marquis hesitated, and she caught a flicker of embarrassment.

"Yes, ma'am," he admitted. He was silent a moment more, and she could tell he was weighing how much to confess on this first meeting. "I still plan to go to college for it someday, though."

"I'm glad you haven't given up on your dreams," Nyssa noted. "I did review the resume you sent me. It looks like you had some experience as a lifeguard, a tutor and a teacher's assistant on Sanctuary, but since coming here, you've had a few months with a… construction company?"

"Yes, ma'am." He looked down. "I've been applying to other kinds of jobs, the kind I really want, but you're the first to call me back for an interview."

"And what happened with the construction company?" she asked next. "According to your resume, your employment there ended almost two months ago." Marquis sighed and sat back in his chair. He picked up his cup of tea and took a slow sip of it. Nyssa set her cup down and gave him a sympathetic look. "Things haven't been easy since you've come here, have they?"

"Can I be honest with you, Dr. Taylor?" he asked. She nodded encouragingly.

"I would prefer you always be honest with me, Marquis," she replied. Surprise colored his countenance at her implication of their continued association.

"My father used to work construction on the island, when I was growing up. I didn't have much love for it, but I learned a lot from him. The value of working with your hands, the pride of a job well done… the importance of building codes. When I had the chance to come to the United States, it was these skills that provided me the opportunity. So, the first thing I did was start reading up on building codes for the US. The first few jobs, I didn't notice anything strange. But we started a job that was going to be low-income housing, and I started noticing some... irregularities."

"Like what?" Nyssa asked with interest.

"Like the wood they got for the job was a much lower quality, and they wanted us to spread them out more than we were supposed to. And then a shipment of wire came in for the electricians, but it was all 16 gauge." He shook his head. "Not only was that not up to code, it wasn't enough to do the job safely. With the size of building we were working on, all the appliances there would be on the circuit, that size wire could easily burn up in the walls, burn the whole building down. I thought maybe it was a mistake, and they had just shipped the wrong wire, but they actually used it in the build. I mentioned it to the foreman, but he acted like I didn't know what I was talking about. So when the inspector showed up, I mentioned my concerns to him. The next day, when I showed up to work, the foreman told me I was fired, so I should just go home. From his tone, I didn't think he meant my apartment in Harlem. But that's how I lost the job." Nyssa considered him with surprise.

"I'm no Seraphina Grey, but I'm fairly certain you have a pretty strong unlawful termination case there," she observed. Marquis shrugged.

"I did speak with an attorney," he admitted. "But the case would take more time than I have, especially since if I can't find a new employer willing to sponsor me in the next couple weeks, I may face deportation."

"And then you would have to go back to Sanctuary?" she inquired.

"Either that, or maybe return to Trinidad and Tobago," he said. "I still have family there. It might be a little strange. It's been almost a decade, and I've… changed a lot since then." He glanced down, shifting uncomfortably beneath his too-large suit.

"Is it very uncomfortable to bind your arms like that?" Nyssa asked softly, then calmly took a sip of her tea as Marquis gaped at her in shock. She gave him a small smile. "You have your differences, and I have mine. You don't need to hide yours anymore. I imagine in the past, it has sometimes been awkward, or even made you the target of…well, unpleasantness, to say the least. But considering that we care for children with superhuman abilities, I predict there will be many times that having four arms will be very useful." Marquis sat up a little straighter.

"Dr. Taylor, ma'am, does that mean…" he began. Nyssa held up a hand.

"Please, just call me Nyssa," she said with a smile. "It means that the job is yours, if you want it. Not just because you need it, but because you're the best person for it. You can start on Monday. Starting wage will be $25 an hour, plus you'll have the same benefits package as the rest of the Avengers. Bring your H1-B paperwork by here tomorrow so we can get the ball rolling on that. I'll have some forms for you to sign, and some books on child development that I'll want you to read as well."

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am. Nyssa," Marquis breathed, standing up in relief. Nyssa stood up as well.

"Before Monday, I want you to take all of your shirts with two sleeves to the tailor shop on West Broadway," she instructed. "Ask for Myrna. Tell her I sent you. She will make sure your shirts fit you properly, and you won't see a bill." She clasped his hand firmly, and smiled. "I look forward to working with you, Marquis."

* * *

Nyssa's alarm clock went off earlier than she wanted it to, rousing her from a deep sleep. Groggily, she rolled over and turned it off. Beside her, Brooklyn stirred and made a soft noise in her sleep. Nyssa turned her attention to her apprehensively, but the girl settled back down and returned to a deeper sleep. At her back, Jameson was fast asleep and didn't stir. Both children always started out in their own beds, but invariably ended up nestled against her. On the other side of the bed, Bucky stretched out on his side, facing away from them, the pillow sandwiched between his head and his arm. It appeared she had successfully kept her alarm from waking him. Slowly and carefully, she extricated herself from between her slumbering children and crept out of the bedroom.

The coffee maker was set to brew at the same time as her alarm, so she always awakened to a fresh pot to help her wake up. She poured herself a mug and went out on the balcony to enjoy the hot elixir in the cool, fresh morning air. While it was true that the city never slept, there was still a muted stillness in these wee hours before the sun rose. Beside her, the flowers and vegetables in the balcony garden filled the air with the fragrance of verdant life, nearly drowning out the distinct smell of the city. She breathed in the relative quiet and sipped her coffee, enjoying the rare moment that she had nobody touching her or needing her attention. Darshan nudged at her hand, and she stroked his head absently. He sat at her side

When she felt sufficiently awake, she set her coffee mug down. She began her morning yoga routine on the mat just inside the open balcony door, inviting in the morning breezes. She managed to get a few good stretches in before she noticed Brooklyn beginning to wake up. She pushed the awareness aside, focusing back on her body and her breath. A few short minutes later, she heard bare, sleepy feet pattering towards her as she raised her legs slowly into a Salamba Shirshasana. Brooklyn's feet raced faster, and a pair of arms wrapped around Nyssa's inverted torso as she balanced on her forearms and head

"Mommy," Brooklyn sighed, snuggling against her stomach.

"Good morning, Brooklyn," Nyssa greeted her daughter warmly. Her affection was only slightly tempered by the regretful acknowledgement that her brief solitary time was over. Brooklyn tugged at the edge of Nyssa's shirt.

"Mommy, I have momnums, peez?" she asked. With a chuckle, Nyssa carefully dropped down and rolled into a seated position.

"Yes. Thank you for asking so nicely," she replied, pushing her collar down to allow her daughter access. Brooklyn climbed into her lap and snuggled in, running one hand over her mother's bare skin as she partook of her cherished morning nursings. By the time Brooklyn had finished, both Jameson and Bucky were waking up. The quietude of the morning was shattered, replaced with the clatter of dishes in the kitchen as Bucky set about making breakfast and shrieks of laughter as the twins chased each other around the apartment. Her early solitude was over, but her heart swelled at the apartment filled with joy and contentment. She hummed to herself as she padded through the kitchen, stopping to kiss Bucky good morning before she grabbed dishes to set the table for breakfast.

* * *

It was still early by most standards when Marquis arrived, coffee clutched in one hand, a tote bag of books and toys in another, and a vaguely round black carrying case held in a third. He extended his fourth hand towards Bucky.

"Good morning, Mistah B," he boomed with a smile. Bucky couldn't help but smile back as he shook the man's hand.

"Morning, Marquis," he responded. "What's in the case?" He gestured towards the black hard plastic semi-circle. Another grin flashed across Marquis' face, but this one seemed slightly bashful.

"Just a little something from home," he hedged.

"Oh, good, you brought the steelpan!" Nyssa exclaimed, coming up from behind Bucky and stepping around him. Marquis' expression was less self-conscious as he nodded. Nyssa grinned delightedly. "I can't wait for music time today."

"Just a standard day for you, while I'm at the convention, huh?" Bucky noted. Double Helix Games was using one of the annual video game conventions in New York City as the launch event for its Avengers video game, and they had been invited to make an appearance as part of that. Bucky wasn't certain what to expect, but there had been talk of photo ops, signing lines and guest panels that he would be sharing with Sam, Steve, Tony and the others. Nyssa shook her head.

"We'll start with a couple routine things, but then we're going on a field trip to the Central Park Zoo," she informed him. "Should make it right as it opens." He gave her a surprised look.

"That sounds like fun," Bucky observed. "Is everyone adjusting well with the new arrivals?"

"A few hiccups, but we've managed pretty well," she informed him. "And between Marquis and I, we have six hands, so that works out." In the two months since hiring Marquis, Nyssa had filled two more spots at her Superkids Child Care from families in the community. Laila was a 13-month-old girl who had been born with a thick head of curly black hair, large dark eyes, tawny brown skin and a pair of wings. At this fledgling stage, they were mostly covered in downy grey fluff, but recently had been starting to sprout iridescent black feathers. The most recent addition had just joined them last week. Jarek had been asked to leave seven childcare facilities already. Strength that should not be possible for a three-year-old child combined with long, sharp fangs and fingernails that were more accurately described as claws no matter how often his mother trimmed them and made normal toddler squabbles a much more serious affair. He was a mostly happy child, but even his smile could be a little unnerving. His first week with the Superkids had been mostly uneventful, though this may have been related to the fact that Nyssa was never far from him.

"Well, have fun at the zoo," Bucky said as he headed towards the door, stopping to give his wife a quick kiss before he left. "I don't know how late they want me there, but the last thing I have on my schedule starts at seven, so probably don't wait up." Nyssa tossed him a tongue-in-cheek salute as Jameson grabbed her by the hand and pulled her in the direction of the nursery.

It wasn't long before the other children began arriving. Tony crouched down with Aaron inside the door, going through what had become their ritual every morning that he dropped him off before going to the lab or the office. Today, he was also headed to the convention.

"Off to greet the fans, eh, Tony?" Nyssa commented with a teasing grin. "I thought you were retired."

"Semi-retired," he corrected her. "But duty calls. One cannot ignore the demands of the public."

"Especially not you," she agreed.

"What can I say? I'm a man of the people," he replied expansively, then crouched down again in front of Aaron. "Hey, tiger. I'll be back to pick you up at six, okay? So, when the turtle on your watch is back at the very bottom, and the rabbit is at the top of the hill." Aaron looked at his wrist, staring intently at the turtle and rabbit that chased each other around the face of it. "See you then. Love ya, buddy." He held up his hand and wiggled his fingers in the air a several inches from Aaron's face. Aaron raised his hands and wiggled his fingers back, not touching his father but responding nonetheless. With a nod, Tony straightened up.

"Did you bring his permission slip?" Nyssa inquired.

"Oh, right," Tony recalled, fishing the paper out of his pocket. "The zoo. Good luck with that." Nyssa shook her head at his doubt as she beckoned for Aaron to follow her over to the sensory corner where his favorite toys were already set out. No sooner had Tony left when Wanda appeared, Pietra clinging to her hand. The little girl's face was set in a fierce frown, and she clung to a teddy bear half-tucked under her arm.

"I know you really want to keep Mr. Fuzzy with you, but that's not safe. I'll keep him safe with me and bring him back when I come to pick you up, okay?" Wanda explained patiently to her daughter. Pietra stomped her foot on the floor, then ran to join Jameson over by the toys. Picking up a tiger puppet, she shoved it in Jameson's face and made a growling noise. Jameson made the wolf puppet in his hand snarl back. Nyssa frowned at Wanda.

"Not safe?" she repeated in confusion. Wanda gave her an apologetic and slightly horrified look, and shook her head. She held the teddy bear up in explanation. Mr. Fuzzy snarled in Nyssa's face, baring half-inch-long fangs in his furred, fluffy mouth. Glass eyes glared malevolently at her. Nyssa recoiled involuntarily. "That… isn't motorized, is it?" she realized out loud. Wanda shook her head ruefully.

"I'm afraid not," she said with a sigh. "She either figured out how to animate her toys, or just created him this way. He doesn't have an off switch, either. Last night, he bit Vision. Poor man is still sore this morning." Nyssa raised her eyebrows in surprise and concern. Wanda wrestled the combative teddy back into her bag and zipped it shut. Closing the bag did not entirely muffle the growls coming from within it. "Here's her permission slip," Wanda continued with a sigh, pointedly ignoring the way her bag wobbled and snarled. She handed Nyssa the pertinent piece of paper. "Good luck at the zoo." Nyssa grinned lopsidedly.

"Have fun at Hero Con," she said, a slight note of envy in her tone. Wanda gave her a sympathetic look.

"Maybe you could go later tonight, after the kids all go home," she suggested. "As I understand it, there will be things going on all night." Nyssa considered the suggestion for a moment and shrugged.

"Maybe," she hedged. "I'll have to see how much crowd tolerance I have left after the zoo trip." She sighed. "Or I could just go to the next one. This is just a short season in our lives, after all."

* * *

Never having been to a convention before, Bucky was mildly surprised to discover upon arrival that his day was already planned out for him, and a trio of assistants to make sure he followed the planned itinerary. Supposedly, they were there to get things for him, make sure he got enough food and drink to sustain him, and to keep him from getting mobbed by the Con attendees, but he wasn't fooled by that. They hurried him upstairs to one of the hotel rooms, down a hallway that had been cordoned off as off-limits to the other guests. Inside his luxuriously appointed room, he found a large gift basket with his name on it. Inside, he found a fifth of his favorite whiskey, massive muffins larger than both of his fists combined, several bags of assorted snacks – some of which he had never heard of before – and a card from the organizers. According to his itinerary, he had almost an hour before he was due for a question and answer session with Steve and Sam in one of the halls. Sitting down on the bed, he grabbed one of the muffins and turned on the cable television to see if he could find anything interesting to watch.

* * *

Music filled the apartment as Marquis regaled their tiny charges with his steelpan. The children danced and wiggled, shaker eggs, bells and castanets clutched in tiny hands as they added to the music. Nyssa danced around the group, bow in hand and violin perched on her shoulder as she played and sang along. The distinctive sound of the steelpan drum gave their music time a decidedly Caribbean feel, and for once all the children were participating in music time. Even Aaron was bopping his head, grinning as he sat off to the side, pounding away at a xylophone slightly out of time with the rest. Nyssa let the last notes ring out, then fade as she lowered her bow. Letting Marquis and the minor musicians carry on as she set the violin lovingly in its case, loosened the bow and quickly wiped them both down with the cloth she kept stashed for that express purpose. As soon as she finished, she turned back to the group and clapped her hands.

"Okay, everyone, let's put our instruments back in the basket so we can get shoes on and go to the zoo!" Nyssa called out. There was general pandemonium, as was predictable with small children. Jameson put his bells back in the basket, but Jarek was chewing on his shaker egg, his teeth leaving deep grooves in the wood. Pietra didn't want to give up her shaker egg. Brooklyn climbed the couch, protesting having to get her shoes on. Marquis gathered bells and shaker eggs from the children and began to juggle them between all four of his hands. The musical instruments traced graceful arcs and figure eights through the air, drawing the attention of the children. They gathered around him, watching in fascination. Nyssa took advantage of their distraction and began getting shoes on the appropriate feet. Brooklyn climbed down from the couch to get a better look at the show. Pietra duplicated her shaker egg and levitated both of them at Marquis, who deftly caught them and sent them in an arc with the others to his other hands. Nyssa finished getting shoes on everyone's feet, and Marquis finished with a flourish, tossing each object into the basket. The children laughed and clapped their hands as he bowed with a grin.

"All right, line up at the door and everyone take a hand for safety!" Nyssa sang out. "We're going to be going where there's lots and lots of people, so it's important that you stay with the group and hold hands. If you can't find my hands or Marquis' hands, you can take each other's hands, okay?" Hands reached for hands, and everyone linked up. Nyssa crouched next to Aaron. "Aaron, it's important that we all stay together. May I take your hand, or do you want to hang onto my finger or my shirt?" He stood slowly. After a moment, he reached out and grabbed the edge of her top. Brooklyn and Jameson clamored for her, and she took hold of her children's hands firmly. She led the way out the door with the children clinging to her, and Marquis followed, pushing Laila in their stroller while Pietra and Jarek clung to his two lower hands. He caught up with Nyssa after locking the door behind them. She glanced over at him, amusement and admiration in the curve of her lips. "I didn't know you could juggle," she noted. His glowing pride blanched slightly with sheepish embarrassment.

"When I… first got my extra arms, it was the first skill they taught me," he admitted. "I guess it was the fastest way to get me to develop coordination between all of them."

"Ah. I see," Nyssa said softly. He hadn't told her much else about his extra arms, but based on the deep violet sorrow that washed through him whenever he referenced them, it was not a happy story behind them. Despite her curiosity, she was not going to press him for answers that he wasn't comfortable telling and didn't owe her in the first place. He was both punctual and patient, excellent with the children and respectful towards her. There was not much more she could ask for in an employee. She smiled at him. "We're still on track to make it right as they open," she commented. He gave her a smile and a nod.

* * *

Bucky eyed the large crowd gathered in the hall warily. There were people crammed wall to wall, many of them dressed in costume. He had seen a few Winter Soldiers, several Captain Americas, more than one Red Skull, and even a surprisingly convincing Thanos. It was weird enough seeing people dressed up as himself and his friends. He'd had to pause as he caught a glimpse of someone dressed in a dead-on rendition of Patchwork Doll, momentarily startled and wondering what Nyssa was doing there. But then the girl had moved, looking around and gesturing to her friend as she talked, and the illusion was broken. What got to him the most were the people who chose to dress up as villains that the Avengers had fought over the years. Catching an unexpected glimpse of Red Skull, Professor Kenneth Sturdy or Viper was enough to send him into high alert, and the crowds weren't helping when he tried to talk himself down. He was questioning the wisdom of agreeing to do this. Taking a deep breath, he tried to refocus on the crowd and the questions they were asking.

"My question is for Sam. Since you've worked with both of them, who would you say is the better Captain America, Steve Rogers or Bucky Barnes?" The girl with the microphone smirked at them a little as the crowd around her reacted with chuckles and jeers. Bucky and Steve both looked over at Sam, who glanced to either side of him before raising his microphone in response.

"You're going to ask me that in front of both of them?" he asked incredulously, shaking his head. The crowd laughed. He waited until the noise had died down before continuing. "That's a hard question to answer. They have different leadership styles, different strategies. Steve could power a battle fleet with the strength of his convictions. Bucky's always got tricks up his sleeve, or hidden in some concealed pocket. But I couldn't say for sure who makes the best Captain America, because they haven't let me have the shield yet." The crowd laughed again and applauded. The microphone was passed to the next person, who squeaked and blushed before asking her question.

"So, um, for Steve, how was your experience working on a video game?" she asked. Steve raised his eyebrows.

"It was a good experience, yeah," he replied. "It's amazing all the newfangled gadgets they have nowadays." He glanced over at Bucky, who caught the twinkle in his eye. Compared to Stark Tower and the Wakandan tech they had both adapted to, the recording studio hadn't been that impressive, but by 1940s standards….

"Yeah, the newfangled gadgets," Bucky echoed with an ironic half-smile. Sam shook his head at them both.

"You'll have to excuse them," Sam said to the crowd through the microphone. "They're both really old." The crowd roared with laughter.

* * *

"Feel how soft the rabbit's fur is," Nyssa suggested, cradling the rabbit in her hands as she knelt down beside Laila. They had started their zoo trip with a visit to the Tisch Children's Zoo, which included a petting zoo. The little girl's eyes lit up, and she reached a little hand towards the fluffy leporine animal. Nyssa caught her hand and guided it lightly through the soft fur. "That's it. Gentle, gentle."

"Mommy, Mommy." Nyssa turned her face towards her son running towards her, a large rabbit cradled in his arms. "Bunny sick," he whined, tears starting in his large hazel eyes. Nyssa gently took the rabbit from her son. She could feel the animal was fatigued and slightly distressed, but nothing that explained the level of alarm her son was showing. Nonetheless, she sought out the nearest zoo employee and handed the rabbit to them. Jameson followed anxiously behind, pulling Laila along by her hand.

"My son says she's sick," Nyssa explained. "He has a sense about these things." The employee blinked at her in both recognition and confusion. "Could you have the vet see to her?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said. "She's been off her feed for a couple days, come to think of it. We'll get her checked out. Thanks for bringing this to our attention." Nyssa nodded to him, then crouched down to Jameson's level.

"There, see? The vet will check her over, figure out what's wrong. She'll be okay," she told her son reassuringly. Jameson threw his arms around her neck.

"Fanks, Mommy," he said in her ear. She straightened up and took him by the hand, leading him back to the group, and scooped Laila up in her other arm. Mentally, she checked in with each of the children from the group, assessing fatigue and hunger levels as well as emotional state. She sidestepped quickly and put an arresting hand on the rabbit Jarek was holding, mouth drifting closer with teeth exposed. He looked up at her, teeth still bared, and whined in frustration.

"Are you getting hungry, Jarek?" she asked. "We have much tastier food with us than rabbit. Shall we find a table and have some snacks?" He nodded, setting the bunny down and reaching for her extended hand. She led the three children towards the exit, catching Marquis' attention. He followed, pushing the stroller with Aaron and the diaper bag, Brooklyn and Pietra firmly in hand.

* * *

After eating his fill from the lunch tray that room service sent up, Bucky decided to go downstairs and mingle with the crowd, despite the protests of his assistant. One of the main halls had been set up with rows of screens and gaming consoles for the Con attendees to sample the new Avengers game. Despite the level of fame he had achieved – which still caught him by surprise – he had enough practice blending in and going undetected. He noticed a few surprised and suspicious glances, but they all seemed to decide the man lurking around the gaming floor in jeans and a hooded sweatshirt couldn't possibly be the same man who had been at the panel earlier.

Bucky had become somewhat familiar with video games. He tended to prefer to watch, mostly. The Barton kids were often playing video games when he visited them, and Tony and Bruce often challenged each other on holidays and get togethers. Even Sam had a few games he liked to play to unwind every now and again. So he had seen enough modern games, he thought, to be a fair judge of the graphics. He was very impressed by what he saw of the game. It was both fun and a little eerie to see himself and his friends rendered in the digital world. The scenes they fought through were gorgeously detailed and unnervingly realistic – even the ones that were set on other planets or in space.

"Here, your turn." The woman he had been watching play beat the demo, stood up and handed the controller to him. He took it in surprise, and she rushed off, waving to someone in the crowd.

"Thanks," he murmured, though she was out of earshot. With a shrug, he settled into the chair she had vacated. It took him a few minutes to figure out the controls, but selecting a character was easy enough. He glanced furtively around, making sure Sam wasn't around to give him a hard time for playing himself in a game, then turned his attention back to the game.

* * *

They trekked into the Tropic Zone, and the children looked with wide eyes at the tropical trees stretching high above their heads. Some of them were populated by lemurs, others by brightly colored birds, and Nyssa detected a few snakes slithering through the canopy as well. Brooklyn dropped her hand, dashing away towards the nearest tree and quickly scrambling up to the lowest branches, jumping off some nearby faux rocks. Nyssa's grip tightened instinctively on Jarek's hand on her other side.

"Brooklyn, come back down here, please," Nyssa requested, making an effort to keep her tone even. "These trees are not for climbing."

"Why?" her daughter responded, climbing higher.

"It's one of the rules here," Nyssa explained. "They can't have kids climbing the trees because they can't have kids falling and getting hurt."

"I won't fall," Brooklyn replied, standing on top of the branch she was on to reach for the next one. A troupe of black and white ruffed lemurs scrambled away in the distance, startled to see a human in this part of their habitat.

"They will ask us to leave and not come back," Nyssa warned her. On the edges of her awareness, she could feel people stopping and staring, the general level of panic beginning to rise around her.

"Besides, that isn't your home," Marquis pointed out, coming up next to Nyssa, Pietra and Jameson in tow. "That tree is the home of the Emerald Tree Boa, and he might not like you being in his home without asking. He might think you're something for him to eat instead." Brooklyn looked upwards. The snake was draped over a branch high above her head, but beginning to creep towards the trunk. With a squeak, she let go of her branch and dropped twenty feet down, landing squarely on her feet on the walking path. There were gasps and faint screams from the onlookers, but Brooklyn took no notice. Calmly, she slipped her hand back into her mother's. Nyssa crouched down to her level.

"Brooklyn, if we are going to stay any longer here, I need to trust that you are going to have your listening ears on," she explained intently." You need to stay close to the group, and you can't climb the things that aren't meant to be climbed. If you're not sure, ask. Do you understand me?" Brooklyn nodded slowly. "Do you promise me you will listen and stay with the group?" Nyssa pressed. Brooklyn nodded again. Nyssa exhaled slowly. "Okay. Let's see how many animals we can spot in the trees while keeping our feet on the ground."

* * *

Bucky enjoyed being able to blend in with the crowd on the main floor of the convention, playing the game, casually chatting with the people around him and generally remaining anonymous. Ever since he had taken up the mantle of Captain America, he was recognized more often than he was comfortable with. Here, he was able to hide in the crowd and feel relatively normal. Sadly, it did not last.

"Captain… I mean, Mr. Barnes, sir, there you are." One of his assistants, Louisa, appeared suddenly at his side just as he started the final battle of the demo. "I've been looking for you everywhere."

"Louisa, we've been over this," he reminded her, remaining focused on the images on the screen as he fought the villain onscreen, a fairly terrifying depiction of Thanos. "It's Bucky."

"Fine, Mr... Bucky, sir," she amended. He sighed, but didn't correct her again. "You should probably go get ready, sir. You have to be in Hall C for autographs in fifteen minutes." Excited murmurs began running through the crowd around them, as everyone within earshot realized who he was. On the screen, his character died. Standing up, he pushed the hood of his sweatshirt back, abandoning the pretense of anonymity. With a sheepish grin, he handed the controller to the next person in line, who took it with eyes wide and mouth agape.

* * *

Nyssa let Marquis take the lead as they filed into the Grizzly Bear exhibit. The children held hands in a chain between the two caretakers as they approached the glass, except for Aaron, who had taken refuge in the stroller with the sound shield down, and Laila, who was napping in the wrap on Nyssa's back. Brooklyn, Jameson, Jarek and Pietra dropped hands and swarmed the exhibit, pressing little faces in awe at the massive bears lumbering about the landscape beyond the glass. With a giggle, Pietra stepped through the glass and dashed over to get a closer look at the nearest bear. Several people screamed. The bear sat back on its haunches, nonplussed at the small girl that was coming up to him. Pietra bared her teeth and growled at him, holding her little hands like claws. The bear growled in response, swatting at her in warning. There were more screams from the nearby observers. She went translucent for a moment, and his great paw traveled through her harmlessly. The grizzly roared in perplexed ire. Nyssa slipped her hand into her pocket and vanished from the crowd of onlookers. Marquis gaped as she appeared in the next moment right beside Pietra. She held a hand up to the aggravated grizzly bear. The bear dropped back down to all fours, then snuffled and walked away. Nyssa put her arms protectively around Pietra, and both of them vanished, reappearing half a second later beside Marquis. On Nyssa's back, Laila was still fast asleep. The crowd around them were a riot of panic and confusion. Nyssa's face was tight as she gripped Pietra's hand firmly on one side and took Brooklyn's hand with the other.

"I think it's time to go," she said tersely. Marquis nodded in agreement, staring at Nyssa in awed astonishment.

* * *

The last event of the night was in the largest hall, and featured the game's creators as well as every Avenger in attendance. Bucky glanced down the line of people seated on the stage and felt a little pang. Even though it had been over a year since she had gone inactive to focus on their children, she was still an Avenger. By rights, she should be here tonight. He tried to push that thought away and focus on the present moment. The hall was crowded, with everyone eager to see the Avengers. The day had been fun, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to repeat it on a regular basis. Being the center of attention was still somewhat uncomfortable for him, though for the most part the fans had been very nice.

"Yes, okay, next question. The gentleman in the back," the host called, pointing. The man stood up, bowing as he took the microphone from the convention staff person.

"Yes," the man purred into the microphone. "I was curious how you decided which of the many individuals the Avengers have harassed, attacked, arrested or killed over the years to include in your game, and why you left out Count Nefaria from your game?" Even at this distance, he cut a distinctive figure, with his flowing, floor-length cloak. Bucky's stomach dropped. He had initially been impressed with what he had mistaken for a cosplay, but the voice was all too familiar.

"Ah, well, we had an award-winning team working on the storyline, and they had a specific story they wanted to tell," explained Neil. "The Avengers have had many enemies over the years, and it simply wasn't possible to include all of them."

"Though you certainly are one of the most persistent," Tony muttered from beside Neil.

"Did you have something to say, Mr. Stark?" Count Nefaria returned. He moved through the aisle, approaching the stage. The crowd parted before him, whispering and backing away.

"Yeah, I do. Didn't you get deported back to Italy?" he said in irritation. Count Nefaria sneered into the microphone.

"My government did not decide to press charges after all," he announced. "My diplomatic immunity remains intact. Status comes with powerful privilege, Mr. Stark. But you already knew that, did you not?"

"What do you want, Nefaria?" Steve interrupted. Nefaria stopped, swirling his cloak behind him.

"What any self-respecting wrongly disgraced Italian nobleman would want from the Avengers," he said grandly. "An apology." Raising his hands, he sent ionic blasts at the row of Avengers seated onstage. There were screams from the crowd as chairs scraped and upended. Steve and Clint hit the floor to dodge the blasts, while Tony stepped back, the Iron Man armor quickly forming on his body. Bucky shifted uneasily to his feet, his hands hovering where his firearms normally would be holstered. Sam jumped up, glaring at Nefaria. Scott shrank from sight. Wanda and Vision both sprang to their feet, red power gathering in Wanda's fingertips. Bruce snarled and grew, his face turning a violent shade of green. Natasha kicked her chair at Nefaria. It rebounded off his head, but he appeared unscathed. He sneered at the chaos unfolding on the stage.

"Did you really all think you could treat me the way you did, and not have to answer for it?" He began to spin, and soon was moving too fast for their eyes to follow. The first row of the audience screamed as a force collided with them, knocking them over. Wind was whipping around the hall. Nefaria suddenly appeared on the stage next to Bucky. He bared his teeth in a menacing smile. "Captain Barnes," he called out mockingly. "I recall our last encounter. Do you?" He gestured, and the floor disappeared from beneath Bucky's feet. He dropped abruptly, catching a nauseating view of stone spikes several meters below him through Nefaria's portal. Something grabbed his wrist, arresting his fall. He looked up to see Sam with one hand clasped on his metal arm, half-hanging through the portal. His other hand had vanished inside a huge, green fist. Hulk raised his arm, pulling both men out of the hole Nefaria had created in the floor. A heartbeat later, he swung his massive green fist at the Count, catching him in the chest. Nefaria flew back several meters, but landed on his feet and scoffed mockingly at him. "Is that the best you can do?" he ridiculed the large green man. "I thought the Avengers were a worthy opponent. I see I was mistaken." Iron Man fired a blast at the Count. It scorched a hole in his shirt, revealing uninjured skin underneath. He snarled back and fired an ionic blast in retaliation. Part of Tony's armor short-circuited and peeled away partially to expose his clothing underneath. Baring her teeth at him, Wanda gestured. Nefaria was suddenly encased in writhing red streamers of power. He made his own gesture, and the red was suddenly streaked with green. Before he could completely obliterate Wanda's magic, she lifted him up and threw him down through the portal he had created. He vanished, and the portal collapsed in on itself. The crowd erupted in wild applause with screams and whistles of approval. Bucky stared around at the cheering fans in disbelief. After a few moments, it clicked. They didn't realize there had been real danger. They thought the whole thing had been a stunt.

* * *

They made it back to Avengers Tower without further incident. Nyssa wrapped the day up with storytime and then let them play until parents began to arrive to pick them up. She quickly composed a letter outlining how the trip to the zoo had gone. Laila's mother expressed some concern over her daughter being mere feet from an angry grizzly bear, but was reassured that Laila was unscathed. Jarek's father seemed amused by the children's hijinks and largely unconcerned. Nyssa was mildly surprised when Pepper arrived to pick up Aaron rather than Tony.

"Tony said there were some unexpected events at the convention, so he's running late," Pepper explained. Nyssa's brow wrinkled in concern.

"Unexpected events?" she repeated. "What kind of unexpected events?" Pepper shrugged.

"That's all I got out of him, so your guess is as good as mine," she replied. After she left with Aaron, Nyssa began preparing dinner while Pietra played with Brooklyn and Jameson on the floor of the living room. Marquis packed up his steelpan and said goodbye for the day. His shift was supposed to have ended an hour ago, but he had been generous with his time. Nyssa put the casserole dish in the oven and then swooped into the playroom in time to intervene in the squabble that had broken out over the toys. Wanda finally arrived, looking stressed. Nyssa ruefully handed her the formal letter.

"Pietra wanted to get up close and personal with the grizzly bear," she explained. "I did get her out of there before anyone got hurt, but not before everyone saw us." Wanda's eyebrows nearly disappeared into her hair.

"Sounds like your day was almost as eventful as ours," she noted. Nyssa tilted her head to the side.

"What happened at the convention? Is everyone okay?" she asked worriedly. Perhaps her panicky feelings at the zoo hadn't been solely due to the children's antics. Wanda nodded reassuringly.

"Everyone's fine," she assured her. "But Nefaria came to challenge us again, so the others are staying late to discuss what to do the next time he shows up." She sighed. "I'm afraid that's a when, not an if." Nyssa nodded grimly.

Wanda coaxed her daughter to come home with her, and Nyssa pulled her casserole dish out of the oven and slid it into a carrying case.

"Brooklyn, Jameson!" she called out. "Let's go bring dinner to Seraphina and Saoirse." Normally, she would give them fair warning when they were getting close to a transition time, but they had been unceasingly enthusiastic in their adoration of the new baby. A pair of excited squeals sounded from behind the couch, punctuated by the rhythm of eager feet.

"See-sha, See-sha!" They chanted as they skipped down the hall. Since she had been able to leave the hospital, Seraphina had been staying with Steve and letting him take care of her. She was doing better, but somewhat frustrated with how long her body was taking to heal. Nyssa enjoyed the fact that her best friend now lived so close by, but not the reason why. She knocked on the door to the apartment and waited patiently. Sera opened the door, her face blossoming with surprise and delight as she saw Nyssa.

"Feeling up for company?" Nyssa asked. She hefted the casserole dish. "I brought dinner."

"You never have to cook to be welcome here," Seraphina protested. "But it's certainly appreciated. God, that smells amazing." She stepped back and gestured for them to come in. The twins bolted eagerly into the apartment, finding Saoirse on a blanket on the floor of the living room, kicking her legs happily. Nyssa carried the dinner she had made into the kitchen and began spooning portions onto plates. She set Seraphina's dinner on the table with a flourish, keeping her attention divided between her friend and the children making faces at the baby on the floor.

"How are you feeling?" she asked her friend. Seraphina shrugged.

"Still foggy sometimes," she admitted. "But I think that's getting better. I'm glad I don't have to go to work yet, because I can't stand to wear anything form-fitting around my waist yet. And none of that stuff fits right, anyway. I have ten grand worth of tailored suits that may never fit me again." She took a bite of her dinner, chewed it slowly, swallowed, and sighed. "At least I can eat again." Before Nyssa could respond, the door to the apartment opened. Steve came in, Bucky following closely behind.

"See, I told you she'd be here," Bucky said pointedly. Nyssa gave Steve a questioning look.

"Nyssa, Fury wants to see you," he announced.

* * *

Leaving the twins with Seraphina for the time being, Nyssa followed Bucky and Steve back to the conference room that she hadn't set foot in for over a year and a half. Waiting inside were Nick Fury and all of her former co-workers with the exception of Wanda. Nick was a study of exasperation and annoyance, and Nyssa suddenly missed her friend's presence keenly. She reached out surreptitiously for Bucky, her fingers lacing through his. He squeezed her hand reassuringly, but was also somewhat bemused.

"Dr. Taylor, how kind of you to join us," Fury began. "Were you aware that you made the evening news?"

"I was not," Nyssa confessed, her heart dropping into her stomach. Of course, someone at the zoo had probably recorded it. She suddenly heard the familiar voice of a newscaster.

"…sensation at the Central Park Zoo today, when a little girl got into the grizzly bear enclosure. Dr. Taylor can be seen appearing suddenly next to the girl. The bear suddenly backs away, and Dr. Taylor disappears with the girl. This video from a bystander has since gone viral." The audio suddenly switched to the alarmed voices she recalled from the zoo, and whoever was taking the video kept alternating between saying "Oh my god," and "What is she doing?" The cries of alarm and astonishment stopped as the clip came to an end. The newscaster resumed. "Dr. Taylor has not been available for comment." Nyssa checked her always-silenced phone in her pocket and realized she had several missed calls.

"I can explain," she said apologetically. "Pietra can phase shift, just like Vision, so when she wants to go someplace, there's not much anyone can physically do to stop her. She just literally runs through walls. Today, she really wanted to get closer to the bears."

"She has had an obsession with them, lately," Vision confirmed regretfully. Fury shook his head.

"I don't really care about what happened, Dr. Taylor, so long as the girl is safe," he corrected her. "Most of the news stories are spinning it so you're the hero anyway. I'm much more interested in how you have apparently developed the ability to teleport."

"Ah. That." Nyssa reached into her pocket and pulled out the ring. Stepping forward, she set it on the table. "Teleportation ring. I got that off the Silver Samurai when we fought Viper," she admitted.

"And you just decided, rather than submitting it to the Archives, as is our protocol, you were just going to keep it for yourself?" Fury queried. Nyssa shrugged, half-smiling sheepishly.

"I didn't intend It to keep it. Wanda went into labor and I went with her, and I forgot it was in my pocket until later. Then it was so convenient. I justified it by telling myself it wasn't hurting anyone, and nobody has asked me for it. I should have turned it in, I know. First it was hard to give up, and then it was awkwardly late," she confessed. "Although, it isn't as if I kept it a secret. Bucky knew I had it."

"I didn't realize you were using it," he muttered under his breath. Fury stepped forward and picked up the ring thoughtfully.

"Careful," Nyssa warned. "All you have to do is think of where else you want to be, and it takes you there." Fury raised his eyebrows at her and slipped the ring onto his finger. A moment later, he vanished. A stunned silence filled the room as the rest of its occupants exchanged glances. Several long minutes later, he reappeared, the ring still on his finger and a Mai Tai in his hand. With a slight smirk, he slid the ring off his finger and set it back on the table, then took a sip of the Mai Tai.

"Didn't you bring any for the rest of us?" Natasha quipped. Fury gave her an appraising look.

"I'll buy a round later," he promised.

"Fury, if I may," Tony interjected. "Could I have that ring so I can examine it, figure out how it works? With my new equipment, I may be able to reverse engineer it so we can replicate the technology." Fury considered Tony for a moment, then nodded thoughtfully.

"I'll allow it," he decided. "So long as you submit it to the Archives when you're done with it."

"Of course," Tony promised, palming the ring on the table and slipping it into his pocket. "If there's anything left of it." He headed towards the door.

"Tony," Nyssa called after him, "aren't you retired now?"

"Semi-retired," Tony called over his shoulder as he headed towards the door. Nick Fury shook his head.

"I think that's enough for today," he declared. "Dismissed!"

* * *

 **Thanks to Qweb, karina001, DarylDixon'sLover and guest for your comments. My apologies for the delay in posting; life just got busy. I promise it won't be as long a wait for the next one!**


	39. Through This Life and Into the Next

**Disclaimer: Marvel Characters are property of Marvel. Original Characters are mine. Just for fun, not for profit.**

* * *

 **Through this Life and Into the Next**

Seraphina closed her eyes and leaned in while Micaela painstakingly lining her bright green eyes in black. Her complexion was still slightly paler than she usually was, though her friend did her best to hide the fact with her makeup. Micaela tsked at the bruisy shadows under Sera's eyes.

" _Chica,_ you're sure you're ready for this? You don't want to give yourself another month or so to heal?" Micaela asked in concern, raising her eyebrows at her. By her expression, she was moments away from going into full mother hen mode. Seraphina gave her a wry smile.

"Steve almost talked me into it, but I just wanted something simple, and I didn't want to give myself too much time to second-guess myself. Or him time to change his mind. Besides, it's not a particularly strenuous activity," she noted dryly. "I'm just getting dressed up, taking a stroll out to Three Sisters Island, standing up with Steve for about twenty minutes, then coming back to the hotel. Where I will probably take a nap with Sisi."

"So, never mind about the reception?" Micaela reminded her. Seraphina shrugged.

"I'll dance a little, enjoy some good food with good friends, and probably go to bed early," she sighed. She still wasn't completely recovered from her grueling birth experience, much as she hated to admit it. She tried to function in the same way she had before, but found she grew fatigued far too easily, and pushing too hard led to cramping and pain, though she had thankfully stopped bleeding. Micaela finished and sat back to regard her for a moment.

"Well, what do you think?" she asked, holding up a mirror for Seraphina to check her handiwork. Eyeing her reflection critically, she stared for a long moment at herself.

"Well, the face looks good," Sera finally decreed. "You worked some magic, Micaela."

"You look very lovely," Rani offered as she slid the comb holding Sera's flower-adorned veil into place amongst her shining crimson curls. "As always."

"You're gorgeous," Nyssa reassured her gently from the bed, closing the book she had been reading out loud. Jameson was seated on her left and Brooklyn on her right, while Saoirse was propped against her abdomen, sitting up and looking wide-eyed at the pictures while Nyssa read. Both twins wore forget-me-nots in their hair; Brooklyn to match her mother and the bride; and Jameson because he had insisted, pronouncing it not fair that they got to wear flowers and he did not. "Steve will be thrilled to see you." Saoirse burbled in Nyssa's lap, smiling at her mama. Nyssa scooped the infant up and extricated herself from the pile of youthful exuberance. Seraphina smiled back and took her daughter back, bouncing her lightly. Brooklyn and Jameson immediately began jumping on the bed.

"At least I have a dress that fits again," she noted, smoothing a hand down the white lace that adorned her light green bodice. Saoirse nuzzled happily along the edge of her sweetheart neckline.

"He isn't marrying you for your dress," Nyssa reminded her. "He loves everything inside it. Your brilliant mind, your stunning intellect, your compelling personality…"

"My broken and busted body?" Seraphina finished dolefully.

"You're not broken," Nyssa contradicted firmly. "You don't need to be fixed. You just need to heal. And you will, if you let yourself rest and be patient with your body's healing ability."

"I know," Seraphina replied. "I'm a little envious of Steve's ability to heal so fast." Nyssa nodded empathetically.

"I wish I had Bucky's, some days," she agreed. Jameson tumbled off the bed, landing unceremoniously in a heap on the floor. Seraphina eyed him anxiously, and Nyssa tilted her head to the side. Over the years, Sera had come to recognize the gesture as Nyssa focusing her attention somewhere not in front of her. Jameson sat still for a moment, then climbed to his feet and brushed his knees off.

"You okay, buddy?" Seraphina asked casually.

"Yeah," Jameson responded, his face lighting up in a grin. Coming over to her, he threw his arms around her legs and looked up at her. "You okay, buddy?" he echoed her words back to her. His careful, childish pronunciation brought a smile to her face, and she chuckled.

"I'm good," she assured him. "I'm happy." With a satisfied smile, he hugged her legs tighter, burying the side of his face against her thigh. A wave of elation washed over her, suddenly sweeping away her self-doubt and the background fatigue she had almost become accustomed to. Clasping Saoirse closer to her chest, she bent down to pull Jameson into a one-armed hug. Behind them, Brooklyn did a flip on the bed, her baby blue tights emerging from the skirt of her dress as her feet sailed over her head.

* * *

"Well, here we are," Bucky commented, straightening Steve's tie and smoothing his lapels with gloved hands. "For awhile there, I didn't think I would ever dance at your wedding." Steve raised his eyebrows at him.

"That makes two of us," he replied dryly. He tugged the bottom of his jacket down, smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles. He raised his eyebrows, a worried furrow creasing between them. "Any advice for today?" Bucky let out a soft puff of laughter.

"Today's the easy part," he replied dryly. "Just enjoy it, and make sure she does, too."

"Not sure if that's encouraging or not," Steve retorted. Bucky grinned.

"This is that amazing I was telling you about," he said, a soft twinkle in his eye.

"All right." Sam stepped up and put a hand on each of their shoulders. "As much as I hate to interrupt your moment, or whatever the hell this is…" He paused, gesturing at both Steve and Bucky, then shrugged and shook his head. "…we better leave now, or your wedding will start without you."

* * *

It was a long but gorgeous hike to the place Seraphina had chosen to get married, on a stone bridge overlooking the river. They were surrounded by greenery, and far enough from the rapids that they could hear each other well over the sound of the water. Steve had brought her here on their third date. The third date was usually when she broke it off before it could get too serious and anyone got too attached. Walking along stone-laid paths, talking for hours while the rapids burbled along beside them, watching the sunset stain the sky brilliant shades of yellow and red sent all thoughts of wanting to end it from her mind. Steve had been unaware at the time, but that was the day she had begun to fall in love with him. So it was only fitting that they return here to make their promises to each other. Seraphina turned and smiled as she saw Steve at the other end of the bridge, dressed in his nicest suit, blue flower pinned to his lapel. He froze as he caught sight of her, eyes widening slightly. Bucky rested a hand on his shoulder briefly. Steve exhaled, then crossed to his place beside her on the bridge. A wide smile spread across his face as he took her hand.

"You look amazing," he whispered. Her eyes shone at him.

"Thanks, I know," she whispered back. "You're devastatingly handsome yourself."

Rather than a wedding party with elaborately dressed bridesmaids and stiffly-suited groomsmen, they had simply asked their closest friends to stand with them as witnesses. Bucky, Sam, Bruce, Tony and Natasha stood on the bridge behind Steve, while Nyssa, Micaela and Rani lined up behind Seraphina. Brooklyn and Jameson stood holding Nyssa's hands, at least until Brooklyn was distracted by the rushing water below and climbed up to peer over the rock wall. Darshan sat still at attention, waiting for Nyssa to command him to do something else. Nyssa stepped closer to her daughter and rested a hand on her back, maintaining contact just in case. Saoirse rode along happily, peering at her mother over Nyssa's shoulder, her tiny body supported and held close by a beautiful silk wrap.

"Shall we begin?" Clint asked from the stone railing, where he had been perched, waiting. With a lopsided grin, he stepped down onto the bridge deck. Moving into position beside Steve and Seraphina, he opened his folder and consulted his notes. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness that which we thought would never come to pass – the joining of Steven Grant Rogers and Seraphina Rose Grey in matrimony." Steve raised an eyebrow at him at the editorializing, but did not interrupt. Clint smirked and lowered the folder. "We're aiming for short and sweet today, so… ladies first." He gestured to Seraphina, who nodded solemnly. She pulled a gold band from the bodice of her dress and slid it onto Steve's ring finger.

"Steven," she began quietly, and took a deep breath. She had rehearsed her vows over and over. Hers was a mind used to long-winded speeches in the courtroom, often with lives and justice at stake, but this one was more personal, and thus felt like the stakes were higher. "Blood of my blood, bone of my bone, I give you my body that two might be one. I give you my spirit, 'til our life might be done. You cannot possess me, for I belong to myself. But while we both wish it, I give you that which is mine to give. You cannot command me, for I am a free person, but I shall serve you in all the ways you require. I vow you the first cut of my meat, the first sip of my wine. From this day, it shall be only your name I cry out in the night, and into your eyes that I smile each morning. I shall be a shield for your back, as you shall be for mine. Above and beyond this, I will cherish and honor you through this life, and into the next." Steve's cheeks went from pink to red, but his eyes remained intent on her face until she finished speaking. Then his gaze dropped to his hand and the new gold band that rested there, shining benevolently. He pulled his mother's ring from his pocket and slid it onto Seraphina's slender finger. It was his turn to repeat the same vows back to her.

"….cherish and honor you through this life and into the next," he finished, gazing deeply into her emerald eyes, taking both of her hands in his.

"Do you, Steven, take Seraphina to be your wife, to be her constant friend, her partner in life, and her true love? To love her without reservation, honor and respect her, protect her from harm, comfort her in times of distress, and to grow with her in mind and spirit?" Clint continued. Steve took a deep breath.

"I do," he declared. Clint repeated the question to Seraphina, who was looking at Steve in rapt adoration.

"I do," she affirmed. Clint grinned.

"Then I guess the only thing left is the kiss," he observed, snapping his folder shut. With a smile, Seraphina stepped forward. Twining her arms around his neck, she pulled Steve closer and kissed him thoroughly.

* * *

Rather than renting out the massive hall, they had reserved a larger meeting room for their celebration. It was just large enough for all the Avengers and their plus ones, Micaela and Cameron with their brood, Rani and her date Anjali, and the herd of second-generation Avengers that chased each other around the room with squeals and giggles. The children naturally gravitated towards Nyssa, who found herself the unofficial nanny of the evening. She danced with them, laughed and played with them, brought Saoirse to her mother when she needed her and took her back when Seraphina needed a break to enjoy her evening.

Bucky was having a grand time. He had a belly full of good food and expensive liquor, and he was dancing at his oldest friend's wedding. He was practically giddy with delight for Steve's happiness. He did claim Nyssa for a dance, but then she was pulled away by the twins, clamoring for their mother's attention. Unfazed, Bucky danced with Natasha and with Wanda, then danced one with Steve before claiming a dance with the bride. Seraphina was still beaming as he swung her out on the dance floor.

"Having a good time, Jimmy?" she asked teasingly.

"Wonderful, Phina," he returned. "Or should I say Mrs. Rogers?" Seraphina laughed and shook her head.

"All my degrees say Seraphina Grey," she reminded him. "I'm still Seraphina Grey."

"Ah." He contemplated this for a moment. It wasn't completely unheard of, nowadays. Nyssa had kept her last name as well, after all. His face brightened after a moment's thought. "I could probably call you Mrs. America, though." Her eyes narrowed slightly, her smile becoming a smirk.

"I suppose that's true," she observed. She glanced around the room. "Is Nyssa still here? I haven't seen her in a while."

"Yeah, she's over with the kids… somewhere." Bucky gave the room a once-over, but didn't immediately see his wife. He tried to check in with his inner sense that usually told him where she was, but couldn't feel her. He wondered vaguely when he had lost that connection to her.

She found him soon after the dance had finished, greeting him with a kiss. He felt some relief that she hadn't left.

"I'm going to take the kids up to our hotel room and get them to bed," she informed him. He glanced at the clock and was surprised to see it was already almost eight o'clock.

"Do you want me to come up and help?" he offered. She shook her head tiredly with a faint half-smile.

"I appreciate the offer, but you can stay," she assured him. "It means a lot to you, and I know you're having fun. I can handle it." She kissed him on the cheek and vanished, Darshan at her heels. For a moment, he considered following her despite her insistence she could do it on her own. He was quickly distracted by Sam pulling him back out to the dance floor for the latest line dance craze. It took him a couple repetitions, but he finally got the hang of it. Steve took a little longer, but finally seemed to get the steps by the end of it. As the night grew longer, he was pulled from one group to another, and somehow wound up at the DJ table playing music and watching everyone drink and dance. Vision had disappeared along with Pietra, but everyone else was still having fun. He noticed that Seraphina sagging against Steve out on the dance floor, so he queued up a slow song next. Seraphina put both of her arms around Steve's neck and let him move her across the floor.

"Should we call it a night?" he murmured in her ear. "You seem tired." Seraphina sighed and let her head fall forward against his chest.

"Probably," she admitted. "I am tired. I just don't want the night to end." With a grin, Steve swung her up into his arms and twirled her slowly across the dance floor, cradled against his chest.

"It doesn't have to," he assured her. She sighed happily, smiling up at him, and rested her head on his shoulder. He watched her intently as he swayed and swirled with his new wife across the floor, and his heart felt so full, he thought it might burst.

* * *

"….and the other day, after speech therapy, he finally said Daddy!" Tony finished triumphantly, gesticulating with his half-empty Scotch glass. Bruce grinned at his friend.

"That's great, Tony. You know, I really admire how hard you've been working with him," Bruce replied. "You're a better dad than I – "

"Guys, there's something important I need to tell you," Nyssa interrupted, coming up to them abruptly. Tony waved his hand at her drunkenly.

"Later, Nyssa. What were you saying, now? You didn't think I was going to be a good father?" he frowned at Bruce, who shook his head.

"No, that's not what I was saying at all," he protested. Nyssa shook her head in frustration and went in search of someone sober. She found Steve heading for the door, Seraphina cradled in his arms.

"Steve, it's an emergency," Nyssa blurted. His expression became one of alarm.

"Is Saoirse okay?" he asked. Nyssa nodded.

"She's fine, she's sleeping. Vision is in the room with all the kids," she reassured him.

"Then can it wait?" Steve asked. "She's exhausted and I was just about to get her up to bed."

"I mean, not really, no," Nyssa replied impatiently, but Steve was already walking away. Growing more frantic, she wove her way through the crowd on the dance floor and bumped into DJ table.

"Bucky, I have terrible news!" she shouted, raising her voice to be heard over the music.

"What?" he yelled back. "I can't hear you over the music." Putting out a hand, she found her way around the table and the massive speakers on the end, coming up beside him.

 _We have a situation,_ she informed him mentally, putting a hand on his arm. He glanced at her, his countenance flaring with concern.

"Are the kids all right?" he asked, leaning into her ear so he didn't have to shout so loudly.

 _They're fine for now, but this isn't about them,_ she replied. _This could impact all of us. The entire planet. It's…_ He stopped her, holding a hand up as he looked towards the doorway. Nyssa cast her attention in that direction and found that Nick Fury was standing there. He strode to the center of the dance floor and held up his hands for silence. Bucky turned the music off, and the crowd lapsed into silence.

"As much as I hate to interrupt the festivities," Fury began, "we have a situation that requires the help of the Avengers." At the doorway, Steve paused and turned. The others looked to Fury attentively. "There is an alien fleet in orbit above the planet. They have been broadcasting a message that nobody has yet been able to translate, but based on the missile they launched that boiled the Arctic Ocean, their intentions aren't friendly."

"Is it the Chitauri again?" Natasha asked. "Have the Kree finally found us?" Fury shook his head.

"We haven't yet been able to determine their origin," he replied. "Right now, that is less pressing than figuring out their capabilities and how to counter them." Nyssa stepped out from behind the DJ booth.

"That's what I've been trying to tell everyone," she volunteered. "It's the Vruuxel. They're here."

* * *

 **Oh, dear. There's having rain on your wedding day, and then there's having an alien invasion. They just can't catch a break, can they?**

 **Thanks to the ever-loyal karina001, Qweb and DarylDixon'sLover for reading and reviewing!**


	40. The Vruuxel Invasion

**Disclaimer: Marvel Characters are property of Marvel. Original Characters are mine. Just for fun, not for profit.**

* * *

 **The Vruuxel Invasion**

Nick Fury stared at Nyssa appraisingly for a long moment. His expression was unreadable, but she could see the frustration and panic concealed beneath his cool exterior.

"Dr. Taylor," he said sharply, "what can you tell me about these Vruuxel?"

"They're very aggressive," she replied gravely. "They obliterated several planets even before they began the war with the Zoq'os. They seek to discover and exploit resources, and don't care who or what they destroy in the process." She closed her eyes and tilted her head slightly to the side. "This is not a scout or an exploratory vessel. It's an armada. Right now, there are thousands of them in orbit. They have the whole planet surrounded. The fact that they haven't already wiped out all life here already has to mean that they have questions they think we have an answer to." She opened her eyes and fixed them on Fury. "They won't bother with an invasion of the surface. They'll wipe out everyone from orbit. The priority has to be translating their message."

"And can you do that?" Fury queried. Nyssa pressed her lips together, eyebrows furrowing in thought.

"I can try," she said hesitantly. "Digital transmissions are trickier than face to face –"

"Great," Fury pronounced definitively, cutting her off. "Dr. Taylor, you are officially off inactive status. Avengers, I need all of you to reconvene in the main conference room in Avengers Tower in fifteen minutes. Do what you need to do to sober up. Everyone needs to be at 110% for this. Can't have all life on Earth wiped out because you're nursing a hangover." He paused and looked over at Steve, still standing frozen with a very pale Seraphina in his arms. "Congratulations, Cap. Sorry to cut the honeymoon short. Let's make sure you can still go on one later."

* * *

Bucky made a brief detour to their hotel room to strip out of his formalwear and change into his fighting suit. Vision nodded at him from over by the window. Under his watchful eye, Pietra, Brooklyn, Jameson and Saoirse sprawled in a blissfully slumbering heap. Bucky paused to watch them, his gaze traveling over perfect noses and peaceful expressions. He wondered if this would be the last time he saw them this way. Trying not to dwell too deeply on that, he looked over at Vision.

"Are you coming to the meeting, too?" he asked, keeping his voice barely above a whisper. Vision inclined his head slightly.

"I will be there directly," he affirmed. "As soon as someone else comes to assume the childcare responsibilities." They were startled by a quiet knock on the door. Bucky opened it to fine a stricken-looking Laura.

"Clint sent me," she explained, her face tight. "He said you'd need someone to watch the babies so everyone can fight." Bucky nodded and stepped back, gesturing for her to enter.

"Who's with your children?" he asked. Laura waved the question away, greeting Vision, who immediately vanished through the outside wall.

"I left Cooper in charge. If they wake up, he'll bring them up here. I didn't want to wake everyone and terrify them," she said steadily, though she was unable to hide the quaver in her voice at the end of her statement. Bucky pulled her into a comforting hug.

"With luck, we'll figure a way out of this, and they'll never know any different," he offered reassuringly. If they couldn't figure out a solution, everyone would be dead before they even knew anything was wrong, but he wasn't about to say that out loud. She clung to him for a moment, then pushed him away.

"All right. Now go save the planet," she said tersely, avoiding his eyes. He tossed her a salute.

"Yes, ma'am," he drawled, and swiftly closed the door behind him.

* * *

In the conference room, strange and ominous sounds were being broadcast over the speakers, barely recognizable as a language. Nyssa was sitting at the table with eyes closed and hands pressed against her temples as Bucky strode into the room. Nick Fury was sitting across the table from her, arms folded over his chest expectantly. The rest of the Avengers ringed the table, watching her in anxious anticipation. The sounds paused, coming to an end. Fury raised his eyebrows at the telepath.

"Well?" he prompted. Nyssa frowned, shook her head and raised a hand, twirling her finger in the air in a silent request to play it again. Her other hand lightly touched the digital interface nestled behind her ear. The sounds began again, the harsh noise beginning to make Bucky's head hurt. Moving silently so as not to break her concentration, he slid into the empty seat beside her.

"Can she read minds over a transmission?" Scott leaned closer to Wanda to ask. His whisper was hushed, barely audible over the alien language.

"No," Nyssa volunteered unexpectedly. Scott first looked startled, then vaguely guilty. Nyssa opened her eyes and turned her head in his direction. "I have a passing familiarity with the language from my contact with S'lal. But it's been, what, at least two years since that mission? So I'm trying to refresh my memory, since I am the closest thing we have to a translator." She lapsed back into silence, listening. The strange chatter came to an end once more. Nyssa took a deep breath and laid her hands flat on the table before her. "Friday, do you need another repetition to finish the algorithm?"

"Negative," the incorporeal AI replied. "Completion of algorithm in five deciseconds." A high-pitched beep sounded a heartbeat later, and the same voice began playing over the speakers once again. This time, however, the hostile growl was understandable, the harsh voice translated into English.

" _Attention beings of unfortunate planet. Return dangerous fugitive S'lal and surrender technological secrets shared. Failure to comply will result in destruction of all life on your planet. You have one standard revolution to respond."_ Bucky's stomach dropped, and he looked around to see everyone in the room exchanging uneasy glances. Even Nick Fury was a couple shades lighter than usual.

"Refresh my memory," Fury growled. "Where is this S'lal, again?"

"Stardust," Nyssa breathed, shaking her head.

"And we don't have any of their tech, right?" he recalled. He glanced around the room, targeting each Avenger in turn with a pointed look. "As I recall, your report stated that all of it was destroyed. We weren't able to recover any." Bucky glanced over at Steve and caught his friend giving him a guilty look. Tony cleared his throat.

"Strictly speaking, ah, that's not precisely true," he admitted. Fury wheeled around to fix a glare at the millionaire genius playboy philanthropist.

"Not precisely true?" he repeated, stepping closer to Tony. "Well, then. Would you care to share with me, strictly speaking, the truth? Precisely?" Tony leveled a defiant and unapologetic back at the one-eyed man.

"We did recover some of their technology," he admitted. "Most of it has been sitting in my workshop. I've used some of it in some of my experiments. In fact, the latest upgrades we've been implementing on the new Quinjets are using Zo'qos technology." Fury stared at Tony hard for a long moment, the fire in his good eye mirroring his name.

"So, what you're telling me is, the technology that the hostile alien fleet currently orbiting our planet is searching for has been integrated into most of our defensive systems already?" he growled.

"Yes," Tony replied. "Of course, I was under the impression it is not our policy to negotiate with terrorists." Fury folded his arms over his chest.

"We're not talking about terrorists," he countered. "We're talking about an invasion. We're talking about an alien race with the capability of wiping all living things from this planet, and very few compunctions against doing so. How many did you say are in orbit right now, Dr. Taylor?"

"Thousands," Nyssa repeated softly. Her eyes were closed, fists balled under her chin and elbows propped on the table. She opened her eyes. "Eight thousand, seven hundred and ninety-two, to be precise."

"8,792," Fury repeated. "And how many aircraft do we have at our disposal that could possibly take down even one of their fighters?"

"Well, we have half a dozen Quinjets," Tony speculated thoughtfully. "And I have some prototypes…"

"None," Nyssa interjected. "None of our current technology is a match for theirs. They have more than two centuries of space travel and weapons cannibalized from dozens of conquered civilizations. If they decide to destroy our planet, we have nothing that could counter them."

"So, what are you suggesting?" Natasha asked pointedly. "That we just… roll over and give them whatever they want, resign ourselves to being erased from existence whenever they have a whim?" She looked over at Steve, trepidation in her expression. Steve's frown deepened, and he shook his head.

"No, I don't accept that," he argued. "There has to be a way to defeat them."

"I never said there wasn't," Nyssa replied evenly. "I just said we are outmatched in a head to head fight." She inclined her head to the side slightly. "We will have to rely on our wits and outsmart them, since we can't rely on sheer firepower."

"May I remind you that the clock, as they say, is ticking?" Vision interjected. "This message was recorded six hours ago, which leaves us eighteen to formulate and implement a plan to keep all of us from complete and total annihilation."

"Then we don't have any time to waste," Steve declared. "Let's start with an inventory of our resources."

"I… may have some backup I could call in," Fury admitted, glancing down at a small pager in his hand. Steve nodded approvingly.

"Anything that could help," he agreed readily. "Tony, you mentioned you had some prototypes. Tell me more about that…"

* * *

"Is everyone clear on the plan?" Steve asked. "Any last questions?" His gaze traveled slowly around the room. Bucky shifted uncomfortably in his armor, a hastily upgraded iteration of one of Tony's suits, equipped for space travel and sporting its own air supply. He was used to having a metal arm, but not so used to being encased in metal. Holstered at his waist were a pair of weapons Tony had quickly crafted for them, based on Zo'qos technology and the only thing the now-extinct aliens had found to be effective against the Vruuxel. Bucky double checked his blasters to make sure they were ready but not about to go off and hit someone. There were a lot of potential targets around him. The room had gotten a bit more crowded since their last meeting.

"Uh, yeah, Captain America, sir," the Spider-kid ventured, raising his hand. "Can we go over the part about how we're getting onto their ships one more time?"

"The rings, kid. We're using the rings," Tony muttered under his breath. The red-masked man shook his head.

"No, I get that part," he insisted. "I'm just having some trouble wrapping my head around how exactly they work. We think of a place, and then we travel there?"

"It does take some mental discipline," Nyssa said. Her calm voice cut through the tension in the room, and Bucky felt his anxiety ease a tiny bit. She was not outfitted with armor for this battle. "You must hold a picture in your mind of the place you want to go, focus on both it and on your desire to be there."

"But I don't know what it looks like inside those ships," Spiderman pointed out. Nyssa nodded.

"That's why we're sending a scout," she replied, gesturing to Vision. The construct touched the stone set into the circlet on his brow.

"I will endeavor to make my reconnaissance without being noticed, and return as quickly as I can," he announced to the group. Beside him, Wanda laced her armored fingers through his. Behind the visor of her space suit, her face was pinched with worry. He lifted her hand to his lips reassuringly.

"Once you're all up there," Nyssa continued, gesturing vaguely towards space, "if you can catch a line of sight on the next ship, you should be able to use the ring to get inside. If things get desperate, you can always think of anywhere else you want to be, and you can be there immediately." She paused a moment, a furtive smile tugging slightly at the corner of her mouth. "Based on my experience, if you're having trouble holding a place in your mind, if you can think of a person that you really want to be with, the ring can take you to them."

"Good to know," Sam murmured next to Bucky. He did not seem much more comfortable in his armor than Bucky was. He had been quite keen on getting Tony to put wings on his space armor until the engineer had dryly pointed out that they would be useless in the vacuum of space, which had quite taken the wind out of Sam's sails. The twin jets mounted on the back of his suit very nearly made up for it. On Bucky's other side, Natasha seemed as at ease in her space gear as she did in everything she wore, although the glance she exchanged with Clint revealed a moment of uncertainty. Standing close on her other side, Bruce was fidgeting with his suit, his face a mask of concerned contemplation. Rhodes, Scott and his partner Hope had all gotten suit upgrades to make them capable of surviving the hostile environments they would be facing.

"Eight hours to deadline," Nick Fury reminded them. He had been leaning against the table in front of the room's viewscreen, his expression stern.

"Shall we begin, then?" Thor asked impatiently from his corner. "I have no desire to see my homeland's fate befall Earth."

"No reason to wait until the last minute," Nyssa noted, one hand dropping down to rest on Darshan's head as the dog dropped into an attentive sit beside her. Vision nodded at them. Giving Wanda's hand a last comforting squeeze, he glided upwards and disappeared through the ceiling.

* * *

Nyssa settled in the seat behind the table, facing the viewscreen. Darshan curled up on her feet underneath, out of sight but silently supportive. Nicky Fury stood with his arms folded over his chest at the edge of the screen.

"Are you ready, Dr. Taylor?" he asked. Nyssa nodded.

"Make sure you stay out of camera range," she reminded him. He frowned slightly at her. "The Vruuxel have conquered many planets. Most of them were either technologically primitive, or peaceful, without the weapons to counter the attacks. Their natural inclination will be to underestimate us. I would prefer to keep their expectations as low as possible." She gestured towards herself. "If they see only me, they will continue to underestimate us, and the element of surprise remains on our side." Fury raised his eyebrows at her, feeling impressed despite the dire situation.

"All right, then. I'll leave you to it." He stepped back, well out of view. She touched two fingers to an eyebrow in a truncated salute, then brushed them against the digital interface tucked behind her ear.

"Attention, alien invaders in orbit over our planet," she began, her voice taking on a professional and impersonal timbre. The translation algorithm transmuted her words into growls, grunts and creaks. "The fugitive you seek did reach our planet, but expired soon afterwards. We have nothing to surrender to you. We request that you leave our planet in peace. We have no quarrel with you." The message was translated into the alien tongue, then silence fell. Moments stretched across the span of her pounding heart, waiting for a response, whether verbal or in the form of total destruction.

"Response incoming, Dr. Taylor," Friday announced. Nyssa straightened her spine in anticipation.

"Let's hear it," she said quietly, trying to keep the fear and anxiety out of her voice.

"Audiovisual on screen," the AI replied, and the screen in front of Nyssa flickered to life. The image seemed straight out of a nightmare. Menacing orange eyes were set into a wide, scaly head. There was no discernable nose, but the hungry mouth was a gaping maw of exposed fangs, framed by writhing, dripping tentacles.

"Lies!" the alien snarled. "Our scanners detect Zo'qos technology in more than one location. Surrender it all to us, or be destroyed!"

"Very well," Nyssa agreed calmly. The alien paused, as if expecting more of an argument. "It will take time to gather together everything we have developed from the technology we recovered. May we have another day?"

"You have one quarter of your planet's rotation to comply," the alien growled. The screen suddenly went black. Nyssa touched the interface behind her ear, making sure she was no longer broadcasting, then grimaced at the blank screen.

"Six hours wouldn't be enough to gather all the tech that Tony's developed," Fury noted. "And I'm certainly not about to hand over our Quinjets. Good thing we're not waiting that long to launch our attack."

"Oh, we'll be giving them back their technology," Nyssa noted dryly. "Just not the way they're expecting."

"That's right," Scott interjected enthusiastically as the Avengers trouped back into the conference room. "They'll get it back. Right up the wazoo!" Just behind him, Hope rolled her eyes. He found his spot at the table and paused, a puzzled look flashing over his face. "Wait, do they even have a wazoo?"

"They entered our universe through a tear in their own space-time continuum," Dr. Strange contributed curtly. "In regards to anatomical discrepancies, your guess is as good as mine."

"I'm guessing that aiming for the head is still a safe bet," Tony rejoined, sliding the faceplate shut on his armor.

"Indeed," Vision agreed, popping through the wall and gliding to the center of the room. "They do appear to have enough vital function there that decapitation would prove greatly incapacitating, if not altogether fatal." He floated through the table and stopped beside Wanda, one arm automatically curving around her protectively. Her glance in return was relieved and loving.

"So, what can you tell us about the layout of their ships?" Steve asked, folding his arms over his broad chest.

"I was able to scout three of their vessels, I believe without raising suspicions," Vision confirmed. "I also overheard some of their conversations. I can confidently say that they are not expecting much resistance from us."

"So we still have surprise on our side," Natasha exhaled, notes of relief and surprise on her breath.

"That will help initially, but it runs out fast," Bucky warned. "We'll have to make the most of it."

"Oh, there's the ray of sunshine we all know and love," Sam noted. Bucky raised an eyebrow at him.

"Too much optimism can get a person killed," he said bluntly. "We can't afford to overestimate our chances here. Overconfidence leads to sloppy mistakes. We do have a chance of winning today, but it's a slim one."

"Which is why we're damned well going to give it our best shot," Steve interjected. "I know what each of you are capable of. The world is depending on us, but if there's anyone who can save it, they're standing in this room right now." He turned back towards Vision. "Tell us about the layout. How many on board? Is everyone armed? Where are the most strategic places to start our attack?"

"I did not get a complete count while I was on board," Vision admitted apologetically. "I did not want to tip our hand, so to speak."

"Crews range from about 25 on the smaller ships, anywhere from 120 to 500 in the mid-size fighters, and the big cruisers carry up to seven thousand," Nyssa replied, standing up from behind the table. "Since we only have a few hours before they plan to erase us from existence, I would like to offer a shortcut to this debriefing." She stood before Vision and extended her hands towards him. "If I may?"

"By all means," he replied, and bowed deeply before her. She put her hands on his head, her eyes closing. They both held absolutely still for several long moments, a heavy silence falling over the room as everyone watched them and contemplated the enormity of what they were about to do. Abruptly, both Vision and Nyssa took a deep breath simultaneously. Vision straightened up, and for a moment, appeared disoriented. Nyssa stood a moment longer, hands drawn closer to her but fingers still extended, as if gathering her thoughts. Just as Bucky began to worry that she was struggling, she raised her head, squared her shoulders and opened her eyes. Turning, she raised her hands in offering.

"Steve," she called quietly into the silence. Steve moved closer and stood before her. "Are you ready for my report, Captain?" He raised his eyebrows at her.

"Ready," he confirmed. She nodded briefly, then reached out to touch him. He gasped slightly, then shuddered, but did not back away. After a couple minutes, Nyssa dropped her hands, and Steve straightened. He was slightly out of breath, and the light in the room reflected off the line of perspiration along his hairline. He took a deep breath and a step back, shaking his head. "That never gets any less intense, does it?" he asked breathlessly. Nyssa spread her hands ruefully.

"Not even after three decades of living with it," she admitted. "Sorry." Steve shook his head once more, less in a denial and more as if trying to rattle his thoughts into place. Raising his eyebrows, he rubbed his hands together. His expression brightened.

"All right, here's what we're going to do," he announced.

* * *

Bucky tagged up at the end of the line, running through the system checks in his suit as he waited for his turn. At the front of the line, Nyssa paused by each Avenger, her hands touching their temples in a benediction and debriefing in one, transferring Vision's knowledge and visual memory of the inside of the invading ships at the same time as she calmed fears and steadied nerves. Several of them leaned in for one of her hugs when their turn came. It had the solemn ritual feel of a somber ceremony. Those who had not previously worked as closely with Nyssa reacted with varying degrees of astonishment as she poured information into their brains faster than they were used to processing it. After she was finished with each of them, they vanished, their rings carrying them into the fleet beyond. Dr. Strange had declined a ring, preferring to transport himself in the way he was used to. It only took her a few minutes to work her way through the line, and then she was standing before her husband, her eyes wide and mournful in her heart-shaped face, still beautiful despite her obvious exhaustion and worry.

"If I don't make it back," Bucky began, but her expression tightened, and he left that thought unfinished. She cupped his face in her hands.

"Just kiss me and tell me you love me one more time," she whispered, unshed tears adding a catch and quaver to her voice. He pulled her close.

"I love you. More than anything," he assured her, and bent to press his mouth to hers. Her arms encircled his neck, clinging to him as she kissed him back, her soft mouth tinged with hope, fears, regrets and desperation. They both knew this might be the last time they saw each other. Her lips against his imparted the good-bye neither of them said aloud. She pulled away, her fingers caressing his temple. He was suddenly inundated with images flickering rapidly across his consciousness. He froze at the cascade of new information. It had been years since he had endured similar, when she was awakening lost and dormant memories within his own psyche. It was slightly different to receive new information in the same manner, though no less overwhelming. The deluge ended abruptly, and he kept his eyes closed for a few moments as he processed this crucial information. Her fingertips caressed the line of his jaw, tracing the planes of his face before they trailed down his neck, sending shivers through him.

"I love you. Good luck," she said simply, her voice another caress to his ears. He opened his eyes and looked at her once more, his eyes tracing her familiar features as he committed this moment to memory. He nodded somberly, then looked up at the screen, which was displaying satellite data of the invading fleet in real time. His eyes picked a target, and he closed the helmet of his suit, hearing the hiss as it pressurized and normalized its internal atmosphere. He closed his eyes once more, envisioning the small maintenance compartment to one side of the engine room. It was slightly partitioned off from the main working area, so he was hopeful he could do quite a bit of damage before they even realized he was there.

* * *

The ring on his right hand burned hot on his finger. He was surrounded by strange sounds, the unfamiliar whine of alien mechanisms, growls and whines of Vruuxel conversation, the clicks and clatters of extraterrestrial feet on foreign floors. He opened his eyes and found himself staring at a flat, brown wall. He turned slowly and faced the entryway. He was mercifully alone, giving him a moment to get his bearings. He leaned out the doorway, quick eyes scanning his surroundings. The images of the Vruuxel on the screen hadn't truly conveyed the sheer size of the aliens, nor had it captured the fetid smell that permeated the air around him, even soaking into and tainting the air inside his sealed suit. His breaths became shallower as he moved silently towards the unsuspecting beings rushing around the room.

Bucky held no illusions that he could fight his way through thousands of Vruuxel to victory. They were only secondary targets. He instead aimed his weapon at the glowing, oscillating column at the center of the engine room. This was the fuel and power source for the entire ship. If he could take the cruiser out, it could have a massive effect on the battle. He dropped back a step into the shadows and aimed for the column. He pulled the trigger. The weapon recoiled violently, throwing him back against the wall. He had hoped for an explosion or something equally impressive, but all he noticed was some of the lurid green from the inside of the column begin to leak out a new hole in the side. Worse, his attack had now revealed his presence and intent. His field of vision was suddenly crowded with fangs, scales and tentacles. A brown, scaly tentacle wrapped around his ankle, keeping him from retreating further. He aimed his firearm at the hideous faces closing in on him. He was able to control the recoil better this time, and would have been able to keep his feet had the tentacle around his ankle not jerked him violently. One of the faces melted away, green goo trickling down a suddenly headless torso. With deafening shrieks, the others advanced on him, flailing at him with hard metal objects that he wasn't certain whether they were meant to be melee weapons or tools. Regardless of their intended manufacture, they certainly hurt as they were driven into his body. He got off two more shots, aiming blindly, then rolled over to protect his more vulnerable parts beneath his damaged suit. The putrid stench these creatures marinated in became stronger, choking him. Warning lights on his suit told him it was depressurizing. He heard the hiss as the life-sustaining air seeped away. He gasped for breath. Rolling onto his back, he caught a glimpse through his darkening vision of a heavy object flying towards his face. He instinctively brought his arm up to block it. Sparks flew as the Vruuxel weapon collided with his vibranium arm. The last image that danced before his failing vision was Nyssa's face, and then the ship around him exploded in flames.


	41. Dogfights and Detonations

**Disclaimer: Marvel Characters are property of Marvel. Original Characters are mine. Just for fun, not for profit.**

* * *

 **Dogfights and Detonations**

Steve hefted the reassuring weight of his shield as he materialized on board the alien ship. It was something familiar amid all the bizarreness of his current situation. This was the last place he wanted to be less than twenty-four hours after his wedding. He spared an affectionate thought for Seraphina, waiting for him on the planet below. His wife. The word still felt strange in his mind. He hadn't even gotten a chance to say it out loud yet. He had a family – a wife and daughter – and just a few months he still wasn't certain that was something he would ever have. He would be damned if he would let a bunch of stinking, tentacled, extra-terrestrial monsters take that from him. Closing his eyes briefly, he recalled the map Nyssa had dumped into his head and determined his best course of action. Gripping the shield in one hand and the gun Tony had designed in the other, he ventured out of the alcove and headed towards the command center.

* * *

Scott appeared suddenly in an empty corridor and shrank to bug size as a group of Vruuxel appeared at one end. He darted closer to the wall to avoid being swept up as they scuttled past him. He waited until they had vanished down the other end, then returned to full size. He took a deep breath and shook his head incredulously, then headed down the hallway in the opposite direction. He soon found himself at a dead end with a choice of two doors. Neither one had an obvious handle or knob. Squaring his shoulders, he strode confidently towards one of them, expecting it to slide aside. He collided with the unyielding substance with a disappointing thud a moment later. Blinking, he shook his head.

"Guess it's not Star Trek, after all," he commented sheepishly to himself. He stood before the door and waved his hands. "Open sesame!" he intoned. Nothing happened. He sighed. "Well, it was worth a shot." Frowning, he ran his hand over the metallic material on the outside of the doorway, but found no obvious button, lever or switch. "If I needed to break into this place, how would I do it?" he muttered to himself.

"You do need to break into it, Scott," Hope's exasperated voice reminded him over the communicator.

"Right, I know that," Scott replied tersely. His fingers found a slight indentation that was virtually invisible to the eye, right above his head. It seemed to lead into a hole, but he could barely fit the smallest finger of his suit into it. "I think I found the door mechanism. Maybe." He pushed his finger in as far as it could go. He could almost feel something brush against his fingertip.

Abruptly, the door opened. For a half second, Scott stared wide-eyed at the tentacled alien about to walk through. Then he shrank to the size of an insect, scurrying out of the way as half a dozen Vruuxel trundled by. He let out a long breath as they didn't hesitate.

"It's okay, I don't think they saw me," he sighed to nobody in particular.

* * *

Hope rolled her eyes and flew up the wall, looking for a tiny nook she could hide in to observe. It didn't take her long to find a spot. She vanished inside just as the door at one end of the hall opened, and a line of aliens poured through, grunting and growling as they passed her by. She leaned forward and watched carefully as they approached the next door. One tentacle extended and slid into the hole three quarters of the way up, and the door opened. Hope waited until they had vanished through the door, then flew back towards the other door. Finding the hole in the same spot relative to the door, she crawled inside. A bar spanned the width of the hole, and she could see spaces on either side of it. She braced herself and pushed as hard as she could on it. It wiggled slightly, but otherwise wouldn't budge. Moving to the other side of it, she pushed again, this time in the opposite direction. This time, it moved easily, gliding back down towards the opening of the hole. She heard a click and a hiss as the door slid open. Darting through, she flew down the hallway on the other side.

"There's a trigger inside that you have to pull to make the doors open," she announced over the communicator. There was a pause, and she heard Scott grunting over her earpiece.

"Oh, there we go!" Scott called in satisfaction. "That's easier than I thought. I would have figured that out in a few more minutes." Hope shook her head and flew higher, hovering closer to the wall as more aliens poured down the hall beneath her.

* * *

Thor had begrudgingly accepted the space suit that Stark had crafted for him. He felt confident that he could withstand whatever foul poison the creatures could throw at him. It was still nice to not worry about his breathing. He hefted Mjolnir in his left hand, then glanced down at Stormbreaker in his right hand. He swung the hammer mightily at the door before him. The door caved inwards with a loud crash, but did not give way completely. Adding Stormbreaker's bite, he knocked the solid-appearing door aside and strode through. On the other side of the door, a group of Vruuxel turned and gaped at him. He plowed through the group with cavalier disregard for their hanging jaws and stunned expressions. Tentacles and blue-green entrails splattered on the walls and across the floor. Thor waded through the dismembered corpses strewn across the floor and smashed through the large door at the end of the corridor. It flew apart in pieces, and he stepped through to find himself in a massive chamber filled with dozens of Vruuxel. Activity in the room paused for a moment as they all focused on him. Stepping forward, he summoned lighting, and sent bolts tearing through them. The air was filled with horrific, inhuman screaming and the putrid stench of roasting alien flesh. With a grimace of revulsion, Thor kicked aside the carcasses in his way as he strode across the room.

"I have faced some unpleasant adversaries in my time," he declared to the room of corpses, "but you are definitely among the foes most foul." He reached the large console in the center of the room and reached his hand towards it. His eyes sparked with his divine energy, and a bolt of lightning cracked into the alien equipment. The lights around him flickered and went out. He listened closely, but the ship around him was silent as a grave. The space cruiser was disabled, drifting in space. He grinned to himself and hefted Mjolnir. "There's one down. Merely another eight thousand, seven hundred and ninety-one to go."

* * *

Peter Parker took a deep breath to steady his nerves before he left the relative safety of the closet he had popped into, and immediately regretted it. Beyond the door, he could hear soft thuds and strange rattles as the Vruuxel scuttled past his hiding spot. Even behind the mask of his suit, which Mr. Stark had tweaked to be able to withstand alien attacks as well as the vacuum of space, the smell was overwhelming. In his earpiece, he could hear Ant-Man and the Wasp discussing how to open the doors. Sliding his fingers around the doorframe, he quickly found the mechanism the Wasp had referred to. He couldn't quite reach the catch, but shot a tendril of web inside and pulled. The door slid open, revealing a gargantuan brown alien. It waved tentacles and stared at Peter in what he could only assume was shock. Before the surprise could wear off, he shot both hands at the being, wrapping them up tightly in webbing.

"Just dropping by, since you're in my neighborhood," Peter quipped, shooting webbing out into the hallway over the Vruuxel's shoulder and pulling himself out of the room with it. "Sorry to leave you all tied up. Wait, no, I'm not." Once clear, he dropped down onto the floor and sprinted away. He rounded a corner and nearly collided with another alien. This one reacted a little faster than the previous one had, and he had to jump and briefly cling to the ceiling to avoid the tentacle that shot out at him. Dodging again, he shot webbing at the attacking tentacles, knocking them back and pinning them to the wall behind them. His spider sense tingled, and he dropped to the floor just in time to avoid the blast from the alien weapon. The first Vruuxel screamed, then went limp, a portion of his head abruptly missing. Spiderman shot out his hand, wrapping the barrel of the weapon in webbing and pulling it towards him, jerking it out of his attacker's grasp. "Hey, watch where you're pointing that thing," Peter admonished. "Those things are dangerous. Someone could get killed!"

* * *

Clint hunkered down in the shadows in the hangar of the largest ship of the fleet. He counted three dozen single-occupancy fighters sprawled across the floor in the belly of the warship. Judging by the level of activity around them, there was preparation but no panic. No launch was yet imminent. For the moment, he waited, watching as the tentacled beings manipulated access panels and controls, trying to figure out how his hands could imitate their movements. He ducked behind some large machinery as a couple of them passed too close to him for comfort, then peeked out again, watching intently.

* * *

Bruce Banner looked around in wonderment at the banks of blinking lights and incomprehensible alien technology. He was in an empty control room in the engineering section of the ship. Staring wide-eyed like a child at a magic show, he inspected display screens showing unfamiliar symbols. Lights danced like a hive of bees, their patterns revealing a message he could not yet interpret. He heard a strange noise behind him, and turned to see an opening in the wall with a Vruuxel standing there. In the next moment, he felt a hot pressure in his chest, and looked down to see a gaping hole in his suit, his flesh beneath beginning to melt away. His vision began to darken as he fell back against the wall. The wound on his chest was turning green, and the green rapidly spread across the rest of his body.

* * *

Natasha heard a familiar roar over her comm unit and grinned. They had managed to piss off the Hulk, and they were going to find they didn't like him very much. She peered down from her vantage point in the rafters of the engineering section on her selected ship. Her usual feminine wiles would be useless with a species that was barely vaguely humanoid. She would have to rely on her other skillsets. Perched as high as she could get and still have a clear shot to the floor below, she aimed for the tentacle of one Vruuxel who was rummaging inside an open access panel. The tentacle dropped away as the creature squealed in pain. It was immediately surrounded by several more Vruuxel. Two of them tended to their injured comrade while another began poking around in the same panel. Natasha waited until it had three tentacles rummaging inside the ship's inner workings, then fired again. This time, her shot burned through two tentacles and a portion of the torso, and the second alien dropped to the floor with a keening shriek. Now every Vruuxel within earshot was gathering around their fallen companions. They were fussing over injuries, gesturing towards the open panel with frantic tentacles. Now they were keeping a wary distance. Pulling a grenade from her belt, she activated it and dropped it into the group of aliens below. Two of them noticed the small sphere land on the floor in their midst. One of them looked upwards, but she had already vanished.

She reappeared floating in space, staring around at the ships in orbit around the planet she called home. They bristled menacingly with weapons, gleaming dully in the light of the distant sun. A flash of light drew her attention up and to her left, and the vessel she had just left blew flames out the side. A few streaks of light shot away from the burning ship as escape pods fled certain destruction. A few ships over, part of the hull burst outward, and she saw a green figure posturing in the gap. A grip of aliens went wheeling through space, flailing their tentacles as they cartwheeled helplessly through space. With a satisfied grin, Natasha scanned through the fleet and picked her next target. In the blink of an eye, she disappeared once again.

* * *

Wanda chose to appear in one of the more populated parts of the ships. Bracing herself, she immediately put up a force field around herself for protection. It was not a moment too soon. Her force field was hit by the Vruuxel blasters, and she could sense the energetic disassembly it inspired in the particles of her shield. It took quite a bit more effort than usual to hold the field together. Once the brunt of their attack had ebbed, she bared her teeth at them in an expression that was not a smile. Gesturing with fingers half-curled into her palm, she began tearing them apart. The walls and floor outside her bubble were soon coated with slime and alien gore. Wrinkling her nose in disgust, she ripped apart the next wave of Vruuxel charging towards her. The last two halted in their approach, eyes wide, and backed away, vanishing back around the corner where they had come from. Wanda's eyes narrowed.

"Where do you think you're going?" she muttered under her breath. Lowering her hands, she floated several inches above the carnage-slicked floor and sailed after them.

* * *

Vision returned to the second ship he had originally scouted. He glided through several rooms, listening to the conversations happening throughout the ship. The translation algorithm was proving invaluable. At first, they seemed gleeful at the prospect of laying waste to the planet below and repurposing it for themselves. It did not take long, however, before hushed rumors of a counterinvasion and ships being destroyed began to circulate. The glee evaporated, replaced by a frenzied panic of Vruuxel trying to search every corner of their ship for invaders while preparing for a battle they hadn't expected to be a challenge. Alert klaxons sounded, increasing the tension in the air. Over his communicator, he could hear the other Avengers' chatter.

"What the hell are these things?" War Machine said with disgust. "I damn near got a tentacle up my exhaust."

"There are worse places to get a tentacle," Falcon returned reasonably, his suggestive smirk audible over the radio.

"You know what I mean," War Machine replied. "These things are disgusting."

"Were you expecting alien beings from another dimension intent on wiping out our planet to be cute and cuddly?" Dr. Strange's dry tone sounded over the comm line.

"Well, that would be an interesting twist," Falcon rejoined.

"You should all just hope they haven't been scanning video content on our internet and discovered Hentai," Tony offered unhelpfully. Both Falcon and War Machine made shuddering sounds of disgust.

"You always have to take it there, don't you?" War Machine grumbled. Tony grinned. He glanced to the side where Nick Fury was standing with arms folded over his chest, scowling at the viewscreen. The screen in front of them was split into twelve sections, each one showing what was going on around each intrepid Avenger. He turned slightly and glanced at the table. Nyssa was sitting with one hand on the computer connected to the viewscreen. Beads of perspiration dotted along her hairline as she frowned in concentration, organizing all incoming sensory input from the team into coherent images.

"Wow, not even an eye roll," Tony cracked. "Tough crowd."

"I may be the most able to handle multiple conversations and data streams at the same time, Tony, but this is still challenging," she assured him. "I will react to your wit with the derision it deserves when this is over and the planet is safe." Nick Fury furtively hid a grin behind his hand. She stiffened in her seat, ignoring Tony's look of mock indignation. "No, no, no," she whispered. "Come back to me." Tony turned to see the second that showed Barnes' point of view suddenly crowded with flailing aliens, then engulfed in flames. A heartbeat later, a slightly singed Barnes materialized on the floor of the room, arms still shielding his head. He slowly lowered his arms and glanced around the room, his expression registering shock that he was back where he began. Nyssa favored him with a tight but relieved smile.

"Problems, Barnes?" Fury boomed. Bucky scrambled to his feet.

"I did achieve my objective," he offered, "but I had some… technical difficulties. The weapon didn't work on their engines the way I was hoping, and I still haven't figured out what caused the explosion."

"Leave that to me," Tony said, quickly scanning through the data from Bucky's suit. "How much damage did you take?"

"Pretty sure the atmosphere tank is leaking," he said grimly. "We'll have to get that fixed before I head back out there."

"Yup," Tony agreed, glancing through the diagnostic. "The nanites should be able to patch that up in a jiffy."

"I wonder if the explosion had anything to do with the leaky tank," Nyssa said distractedly. All three men glanced over at her in surprise. "Their periodic table of known elements doesn't even include oxygen." Tony's eyes widened as he processed that information.

"Vision!" he called out over the communication channel. "I need an atmospheric analysis aboard the ship." There was a pause, and Tony took a breath, preparing to repeat his request.

"I do not recognize some of the elements," Vision replied calmly, "but the most common molecule appears to be hydrogen. It is bound to a strange atom that serves to stabilize it."

"What would happen if you added oxygen to the mix?" Tony asked tersely, his face a dark study of contemplation. "I have a hypothesis I need to test."

"There is one sure way to find out," Vision said thoughtfully. Both Tony and Bucky turned towards the viewscreen. Nyssa nudged Vision's section to the center and enlarged it, moving the other perspectives to the edges of the screen. A faint hiss was heard over the monitor. In the background, several Vruuxel appeared. They advanced on Vision, then were consumed in a conflagration. The ship around Vision vanished, and suddenly the screen was filled with stars calmly shining in a black velvet background. "Your hypothesis is correct," Vision intoned. "The introduction of oxygen to their environment makes it exceedingly volatile and combustible." Tony's eyebrows rose, nearly disappearing into his hairline. After a moment, a slightly manic giggle escaped him. Bucky looked over at him questioningly, and Fury regarded him with an expression that indicated he was beginning to wonder if his top engineer had lost his mind under the pressure.

"I'm gonna build… an oxygen bomb," he announced smugly. Bucky raised an eyebrow at him.

"After you get my suit patched up, right?" he reminded him. Tony waved a hand at him as he paced back to his portable workstation.

"Right, right. First things first."

* * *

Steve edged his way down the corridor, peeking cautiously around the corner.

"How much further?" he murmured softly.

"Around the corner, then take the second right and go down about a hundred meters. Door will be on your left," Nyssa's voice answered. "There should be an access panel to one side of the door." Steve turned the corner and crept down to the second cross corridor. Furtively, he looked around the wall's edge and spotted the door, then quickly pulled back as he noticed a pair of Vruuxel at the opposite end of the hallway heading in his direction.

"And if I can get the comm unit into their computers, you can override and get me into the command center?" he clarified.

"I never said I could override," Nyssa admitted. "We're talking about alien technology, after all. It's not exactly compatible. But I'm pretty sure I can cause enough chaos that you should be able to get inside. Think you can take it from there?" He could hear them drawing closer, and pressed back against the wall, willing them not to notice him and not turn the corner where he was hiding. His luck held, and they passed by him. Jumping out from his hiding place, he hurled his shield with all his considerable strength. The vibranium disc sliced through the alien bodies right where their necks should have been. They dropped to the floor, alien eyes wide in astonishment, bluish-green blood spilling out across the metal decking. Steve danced backwards to keep the flood of gore from washing over his feet. He turned to face the direction he was going, and found that he was nearly at the door.

"I guess we're about to find out," he muttered, half to himself and half to Nyssa over the comm. Finding the panel Nyssa had referred to, he spent precious moment trying to figure out how to access it. Deciding it was taking too long, he shoved the edge of his shield into the edge and pried it open. The inside was a bewildering array of flashing lights and gold lines traced across a black background. Steve frowned at it. "Where exactly do I need to put you?" he whispered, glancing anxiously down the hall to make sure he wasn't about to be attacked.

"Set the wireless module inside with the antenna touching one of those gold lines," she instructed. "I'll try to re-establish communication through the main system if I can, but I make no guarantees."

"Copy that," Steve replied. Unclipping his comm unit from his helmet, he set it inside the panel, careful to set it in the way she instructed, then gently closed the panel. For a moment, nothing happened. He turned and pressed his back against the wall, warily watching for any approaching attackers. The lights flickered off, then on again. The door suddenly hissed open. Steve pivoted to go through but quickly ducked out of the way as several Vruuxel charged out, making a high-pitched keening that triggered an itchy ache in his spine. The lights went out again, and he ducked through the doorway with a silent prayer that nobody else was about to run into him. The lights flickered back on, but dimly. In the gloom, Steve could see the shadowy figures and gesticulating tentacles. He prayed he was just as obscured by the dark and confusion. Without hesitating, he flung his shield at the largest alien shape, then pivoted to punch the figure looming up beside him. His fist sunk in deeper than he anticipated, making a stomach-turning squelch. A tentacle twined around his wrist and pulled strongly. He had to fight to keep his feet, but took a step backwards and dragged the Vruuxel forward. His shield came sailing back to his free hand, and he sent it spinning through the tentacle holding his arm. He danced back as he suddenly found himself freed. Greenish-blue blood spattered on the deck below as the Vruuxel shrieked in anguish. Steve brought the shield in front of his face just in time to deflect the blast from the Vruuxel weapon. The metal grew almost too hot to hold. He hurled it at his opponent, and it sliced through alien flesh. His attacker dropped to the deck in two oozing pieces. In his peripheral vision, he could see more Vruuxel advancing on him. His blood rushed in his ears, his pulse like thunder. Time seemed to slow, and thought ceased. He moved purely on instinct, his shield gutting and decapitating, deflecting and defending, scarcely aware of the rising tide of gore around him. He split the skull of yet another alien and stepped back as it dropped to the floor. Panting, he looked around, muscles tensed as he prepared for the next attack. He was surprised when it did not come. The lights flickered again, then flooded the command center with light. Steve blinked in the sudden illumination and stared around at the bloody trenches around him.

"Not bad for a scrawny kid from Brooklyn." Nyssa's voice over the overhead speakers was teasing. Steve shot a sardonic look at the ceiling. "Now, let me see if I can figure out how to make this bird fly." The viewscreen on the far wall flickered on, displaying the peacefully floating blue and green planet below. Dozens of hostile ships obscured what otherwise would be a serene vision. "Weapons control is over here," Nyssa mentioned, and Steve moved to where he spotted lights flashing. He frowned down at the odd configuration, unlike anything he had seen before.

"How do I use it?" he asked, a frustrated edge to his voice.

"Move the little sphere to change which ship you're targeting," Nyssa instructed. "Target the red ones, I've turned the ships we've boarded gold. The trigger on the left launches an energy attack. The one on the right launches something closer to your conventional missiles."

"All right." Steve gripped the controls and contemplated the display. "Here goes nothing."

* * *

Spiderman dashed down the corridor, shooting webs at corners to help him turn more quickly. Behind him, the halls were strewn with wiggling, protesting Vruuxel pinned to walls, ceiling and floors with sticky, unbreakable webbing. He webbed doors he passed by them, hoping to at least stall anyone trying to come after him.

"How much farther?" he hissed into his comm unit.

"Three more doors, on your left," Nyssa's voice answered him. Ducking his head in a nod he knew she couldn't see, he shot a web at the ceiling and closed the distance between himself and the door to the command center. With a now-practiced hand, he shot a tendril into the door mechanism and deftly pulled the trigger to open it. The door slid aside, and he bounded through. Whirling in a circle, he quickly webbed up any moving shapes he could see. His spider sense tingled, and he launched himself up to the ceiling in time to avoid the energy blast from the Vruuxel disruptors. Hanging from the ceiling, he snagged their weapons, pulling them from grasping tentacles.

"I'm confiscating these," he informed them. "You can sit there and think about what you've done. I don't appreciate you trying to obliterate my planet and my home." He stuck the disruptors to the ceiling in a sticky ball, then dropped to the floor. "Now, to figure out these controls." He examined the strange-looking display. On the viewscreen, a flash of light flared, and one of the Vruuxel ships shook, then exploded in a ball of flame. Enraged and dismayed keening arose in the command center from the ensnared aliens. Spiderman took a step back, hands raised and open.

"Whoa, did I do that?" he asked. "I didn't think I even touched anything."

"No, that was Captain America," Nyssa's voice assured him. "On the targeting display, the ships that Avengers have boarded are gold. Aim for the red ones."

"Got it."

* * *

On the viewscreen, Steve, Spiderman and Thor had managed to take over the command centers of their selected ships, and had begun firing on the rest of the invasion fleet. Ant Man was causing general havoc in the engineering section of his ship, keeping up a running commentary as he figured out some of the elements worked. Natasha bounced from ship to ship, causing general havoc and destruction in her wake. Wanda and Hulk waded through the crews, tearing aliens apart; Wanda with her mind and Hulk with his bare hands. Vision took a more strategic approach, cutting open hulls with the diadem he wore. Clint was still lurking around the hangar, watching the fighter planes and waiting for his opportunity. War Machine was living up to his name, clearing out each area he came to with the arsenal of firepower he had available in his suit. Dr. Strange was… well, Bucky wasn't certain what he was doing, but the wizard was certainly living up to his name. In any case, it seemed effective. Falcon seemed to have adapted to being grounded, blasting his way through the halls.

"How's everyone doing?" Falcon called over the comm. "I think that was alien number seventy-five for me. What's your count, Winter Soldier?"

"Ah, one," Bucky replied. "One mid-size cruiser, I mean."

"Slacking again, I see," Falcon gloated. "Whoops, there's seventy-seven now." Bucky shifted and glanced over at Tony.

"How much longer?" he asked, trying not to fidget. It was excruciating to watch everyone else fighting and not be able to join them. Nyssa was sitting stiffly at the table, eyes open but unfocused. Aside from the relieved smile when he had first arrived safely back in their headquarters, she hadn't interacted with her husband much. Given everything she was monitoring and controlling, he could understand why, but after his brush with death he wished he could sweep her up in his arms. Instead, he watched her from the repair bench as the nanites completed their restoration cycle. Tony frowned over at him from his workbench, then came to investigate.

"Relax, Fullmetal. You're already at 93%," Tony observed, then shrugged. "Besides, it's only been 23 minutes since we first engaged."

"Every minute counts," Bucky reminded him. "They're going to realize what's going on any time now." Tony patted him on the shoulder.

"Don't worry, you'll be able to get back to our real-life Doom soon enough," he said, though his tone was more dry than reassuring. "And when you get back there, you can give these babies a whirl." Darting back to his workstation, Tony scooped up half a dozen gleaming black spheres and proffered them to Bucky, who took them hesitantly. "The trigger is the gold button on the side. Slide it to the left to release the safety, then push it down. It'll start hissing; it's supposed to do that. Means it's working. It releases oxygen into the atmosphere. You'll have a count of ten seconds, then it will explode. You should probably not be in the general vicinity when that happens."

"Roger that," Bucky responded, stashing the oxygen grenades in the hidden pockets of his fighting suit. The armor on his chest beeped, and he frowned down at it. Tony looked, too, and his expression brightened.

"And you're done cooking," he pronounced. "Off the bench, get back in there, Slugger." Bucky raised an eyebrow at him.

"Thanks, Tony. But don't call me Slugger." Bucky paced over and quickly pressed his lips against Nyssa's. She didn't move or respond, but he heard her voice coming from the viewscreen in three different conversations. Taking a deep breath, he straightened up. He noticed Fury watching him from the corner. He tossed a salute to him, then activated his ring again. The walls of the control room vanished, replaced by the dim lighting and strange equipment of another alien engine room. He was not immediately noticed as he fished a grenade out of his pocket and activated it. He tossed it in the general direction of the engine, then shot three of the five Vruuxel that converged on him as he counted backwards in his head. The engine room disappeared, and he hovered outside the ship, floating weightless in space as he watched to gauge the effectiveness of Tony's latest creation. With satisfaction, he watched the ship he had been on three seconds earlier explode in a conflagration. Focusing his attention upwards, he picked another target. Pulling another grenade out of his pocket in preparation, he dematerialized.

* * *

Tony stood watching the viewscreen for a long moment after Bucky vanished. Out of his peripheral vision, he saw Nyssa shift and blink. One hand came up to touch her lips thoughtfully. She sighed and returned to her trance-like state. Tony regarded the images of victory after victory on the screen, but still couldn't shake the uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He edged closer to Fury, who was staring at the images as well, his expression unreadable.

"How do you think we're doing so far?" he asked bluntly. Fury turned his head and focused his good eye on him.

"I see lots of little victories," Fury observed. "We're doing pretty well."

"It's still early, though," Tony pointed out. "And I keep running the numbers in my head, and I'm not sure we're going to win this one. I mean, we can destroy hundreds of their ships, and there will still be thousands left."

"We still have a few tricks up our sleeves," Fury replied enigmatically.

"We need something big, right?" Tony offered, rubbing his left shoulder. "Something flashy, something that can wipe out big chunks of their fleet, something to make them turn tail and run. Based on the data we have, an atom bomb wouldn't even touch those ships, but they have weaknesses that ours don't. We need… something unconventional." He paced back and forth in front of the viewscreen while Fury regarded him with interest. Tony shook his head and stopped. "I'll come up with something. First, though, I'm going to get these to where they can be useful." His Iron Man armor unfolded over his entire body as he moved back to his workbench. Sweeping the pile of his creations from his workbench into a bag, he turned back to face Fury. "If I'm not back in fifteen minutes…. Ask her where I am." He gestured to Nyssa, grinning as his faceplate slid into place. Then he was gone.

* * *

Hawkeye crept furtively forward, trying to get a closer look at the fighters without blowing his cover. The activity in the hangar was increasing, and he was beginning to wonder if it was time to make his move.

"What do you think this is, Barton? Coffee break? A siesta?" The voice from behind startled him, and he turned with a fierce frown, rubbing his head where he had bumped it on the bulkhead.

"It's called reconnaissance, Tony," he growled. "What the hell are you doing here, besides blowing my cover?"

"Settle down," Iron Man rebuked, holding up an armored hand. "I come bearing gifts." He reached into his bag and withdrew a pair of black spheres. "Oxygen grenades," he announced proudly. Hawkeye frowned down at them.

"Got anything bigger?" he asked. The expressionless helmet tilted to the side.

"My balls aren't big enough for you?" Tony's voice was mock-scandalized. "These are brand new, state of the art, top of the line, limited edition, specifically made for this occasion."

"So that's a no?" Hawkeye raised his eyebrows at Tony, who made an exasperated noise.

"Fine." Reaching back into his bag, Tony pulled out a disc the size of a salad plate, only four inches thicker. "Is this big enough for you? Should pack ten times the punch of the grenades. This one, you can set the time delay. Default is five minutes, but I can show you how to adjust…"

"That won't be necessary," Hawkeye said quickly, taking the disc from Tony. "Got any more of these?"

"I'm trying not to put all my eggs in one basket," Tony protested.

"I'm not going to have much use for grenades in a fighter plane," Hawkeye pointed out.

"But you think the bombs might come in handy?" Tony asked skeptically. Hawkeye shrugged.

"I might have some ideas for those," he hedged. Tony fished a second disc out of his bag and handed it over. "Thank you very much," Hawkeye said with a tongue in cheek salute. Iron Man returned the gesture, then vanished.

* * *

"Couldn't resist coming out to play again, eh, Tony?" Black Widow quipped without looking behind her.

"I'm more of a courier this time, Romanov," he replied. Now she did look at him, intrigued. He hovered close to the ceiling where she was waiting, concealed among tubes, wires and alien equipment. Below them, oblivious Vruuxel moved among consoles and monitors, tentacles waving nonchalantly.

"What did you bring me?" she asked, extending a hand towards him, palm up.

"Here. Happy birthday," he quipped, proffering seven spheres to her.

"Oh, you shouldn't have. You're only three months late this year," she volleyed back, taking the balls and stashing them in the storage pockets of her suit.

"See, I'm getting better," he replied. "You'll have ten seconds after activation to do your disappearing act."

"Good to know," she said, looking down at the rather innocent-looking orb with a raised eyebrow. She glanced back over at Iron Man, but he was gone. She turned her attention back to the explosive gift. "Let's see what you can do," she murmured quietly. Activating the detonator, she was slightly startled when it started hissing at her. Hastily, she dropped it to the floor far below her. At first, the Vruuxel didn't seem to notice, but then one of them caught sight of the grenade and began flailing madly. Black Widow didn't stay to watch their last moments of panic, but relocated to the space outside the ship in time to watch the ship explode in a blue and gold fireball. "Not bad, Tony," she murmured to herself.

* * *

War Machine paced down the corridor, the feet of his suit clanking against the metallic floor tiles. Alarms were sounding, lights flashing in warning. Ahead of him, a handful of Vruuxel fled. He chased them, firing after them a barrage of destruction from the arsenal that his suit was equipped with. Some of his weapons did little more than singe or sting them, but he also had plenty of deadly options at his disposal. He rounded the corner and stopped short. The Vruuxel he had been chasing were now hiding behind a phalanx of heavily armored aliens, bristling with weaponry to rival his own. He ducked back behind the bulkhead just as their return fire began melting the metal decking. He flinched to the side as a large chunk of wall right next to his head disappeared with a deadly hiss.

"Here, try this." He looked to the side in surprise to see Tony in his Iron Man armor, holding a small sphere out towards him. Activating it, he rolled the little ball down the hallway towards the still-firing aliens. "Now we gotta go," Iron Man announced, grasping War Machine's arm. An instant later, they were floating in space, the ships of the invading alien fleet hovering around them.

"Tony, what – " Rhodes' question was halted mid-sentence as one of the ships burst into a conflagration. "Ah. That's impressive." He turned to look at his friend. "I'm guessing our surprise advantage just wore off. It's going to get harder from here on in." Iron Man nodded solemnly.

"It's dangerous to go alone," he intoned. "Here, take these." He shoved a double handful of the spheres into Rhodes' hands. "I gotta go. More deliveries to make."

"You're like a lethal Santa Claus," Rhodes joked. Tony snorted.

"Take care, Rhodey," he said, then vanished.

* * *

Spiderman peered closer to the display, moving the controls to target the angry red outlines of hostile alien ships, then blasting them with his weapons controls.

"This is like old school," he commented aloud. "I feel like I'm in an arcade."

"Are you winning?" Nyssa asked dryly over his headset. He let out a startled chuckle, remembering that the stakes were considerably higher for this game. He glanced around at the trapped and bound Vruuxel, then looked back at the display. Pressing the trigger button, he watched more of the red enemy ships disappear.

"So far, I think so," he confirmed. "But in most of the games I play, I feel like this is when they would throw a boss battle at you."

"Well, heads up," Nyssa replied. "You've got incoming." With a frown, Spiderman turned to look around the room again. The aliens still seemed dismayed, but remained immobile. The door began to glow, and the metal slowly melted away, along with the webbing that secured it. Vruuxel began spilling through, firing wildly. Spiderman leapt away, keeping machinery, equipment and metal between himself and their deadly weapons.

"Guess that's my cue to exit stage right," he quipped. In a flash, he was outside the ship. Looking around, he shot a web strand at the next nearest one and pulled himself over to it. The hull was rough, bristling with metal spikes and pipes running along the surface. It was easy for him to pull himself along while he tried to plan his next attack. He paused outside a window, peering inside. His spider sense tingled, and he looked over his shoulder to see the ship he had temporarily commandeered was sailing closer. The hull around him began taking damage, and he was shocked to realize they were shooting at him despite the risk to their own ship. In a flash, he was inside, looking out the tiny portal at the looming enemy ship blocking out the stars.

* * *

Captain America frowned down at his display, concentrating on trying to use the alien controls. He had successfully eliminated a handful of the larger ships, though it took some persistence. Knitting his eyebrows together, he focused his attack on the largest ship in range.

"Watch out, Cap," Nyssa's voice warned over the overhead speakers. "Hostiles on their way to you." He picked up the shield he had set at the side of the display just in time. The door exploded open, and he ducked behind his shield, feeling the metal grow hot under the onslaught of their weapons. Just as it was growing too hot to continue to hold, he was floating in space. The heat of his shield dissipated almost immediately. Looking around, he spotted his next target, and zapped himself aboard.

* * *

Thor opened the next door to see the next group of aliens was well-armored. Their expressions were difficult to read, but they definitely looked expectant and angry, rather than scared and confused. Thor waded in without hesitation, swinging both Mjolnir and Stormbreaker. The armored aliens seemed unfazed by his hammer, and the blade of Stormbreaker glanced off the alien metal. Not yet discouraged, Thor channeled his lightning through the group. A faint smell of scorched alien flesh hung in the air, but otherwise they were not deterred.

"That is some impressive armor," Thor commented, taking a step back.

* * *

The noise in the hangar increased exponentially. Alarms were sounding, Vruuxel made their way hastily towards the small fighter craft. Seeing his cue, Hawkeye crept furtively towards the vessel he had been staking out. He paused as he surveyed the strange controls. The flight controls were recessed far underneath the instrument cluster, and he hesitated.

"Not sure I want to stick my hand down that hole," he muttered to himself.

"Is there another appendage you would prefer to insert?" Nyssa's voice was faintly amused. Hawkeye snorted.

"Nah, that wouldn't reach anyway." He took a deep breath and slid his hand into the cavity containing the controls. The half-expected jolt of pain did not come, but he hastily withdrew his hand as the entrance to the fighter was suddenly filled with the imposing figure of the Vruuxel that was supposed to be flying it. Grasping a pipe overhead, Hawkeye swung both feet at the extra-terrestrial and kicked him back out of the cockpit. The Vruuxel quickly regained its feet and charged at him as he frantically tried to find the control that closed the door.

"I've got the door, you just get us out of here," Nyssa's disembodied voice offered. The boarding ramp began to slide in as the doors slid shut.

"Just one last thing," Hawkeye insisted. Grabbing one of the bombs Tony had given him, he activated it and slid it down the ramp. It came to a stop at the very end of the slowly retracting metal plank, and the ramp's progress halted. He hastily sat back down in the chair. "All right, now we gotta go." Reaching back into the recessed flight controls, he aimed the fighter at the open space at the end of the flight deck. Despite their strangeness, the flight controls were surprisingly intuitive.

"Dropping the armed explosive now," Nyssa intoned, and he heard a clunk as the ramp slid into its fully retracted position. "Detonation in 5… 4… 3… 2…" He guided the fighter out of the exit into empty space just as the flight deck exploded, setting the rest of the spaceship on fire. Hawkeye turned in his seat to watch as the large carrier ship began to catch fire, drifting off course and slamming into the ship next to it. Taking a breath, he allowed himself a brief grin of satisfaction before he returned his attention to making a strategic assessment of his surroundings. Below him, the planet floated, peaceful blue and green. Around him, fighters like his flew in formation. Above him, he could see several of the largest cruisers. A few were birthing streams of fighters similar to his. He veered off to get a better look at what was going on. His heart nearly stopped as the two flagships slowly moved out of the way, and a gargantuan disc-shaped craft drew closer to the planet.

"What the hell is that thing?" he murmured to himself.

"That's their planet killer," Nyssa replied flatly.

"Holy shit," was the only thing he could think to reply. "It looks like they're getting ready to use it."

* * *

"Dr. Taylor, incoming communication from the alien fleet," Fury warned. Nyssa blinked several times, then nodded.

"I'm ready," she confirmed. The images of the Avengers fighting their various battles was temporarily replaced with the quivering, furious visage of the Vruuxel commander.

"You lied to us," he snarled. "You have been attacking us." Nyssa spread her hands.

"We are not as helpless as you believe," she assured the alien.

"That remains to be seen," The Vruuxel commander growled in response. "Our deal is canceled. Your planet is forfeit." The screen went dark.

* * *

 **Thanks to Qweb, karina001, DarylDixon'sLover, LadyAmazon and SomebodyWhoCares for your lovely feedback and continued readership! It means a lot. Also thanks to all my silent readers. I know this is a cliffhanger and I apologize for taking so long to post it! I'm really hoping to have the next chapter done before the end of the year. Comments add motivation!**


	42. The Needs of the Many

**Disclaimer: Marvel Characters are property of Marvel. Original Characters are mine. Just for fun, not for profit.**

* * *

 **The Needs of the Many**

"Guys, we need to concentrate our attacks on the planet killer," Hawkeye called over the comm.

"I would, but I just got booted," Spiderman replied. "I'll try taking over this one, but it'll take some time."

"I'm in the same situation," Captain America said grimly. "I'm fighting my way to the command center now."

"I did not survey that vessel during my reconnaissance," Vision admitted. "I am not certain it is possible to teleport aboard without being in line of sight. I will attempt to board."

"Not sure we have time for that," Hawkeye muttered. "Guess it's up to the little guy." Veering away from the cloud of fighters, he flew straight at the disc. As soon as he thought he was close enough, he launched everything the little vessel had at the menacing superweapon. Most of his shots impacted on an invisible force field several meters before they would have reached the surface of the planet killer, detonating harmlessly in space.

"I am not certain your craft has enough firepower to have any impact on anything so heavily shielded," Vision pointed out.

"They'll have to drop the shield to make their attack," Hawkeye pointed out reasonably. "I just have to time it right."

"They're almost in position," Nyssa warned. Hawkeye reached back and set the other explosive Tony had given him on the gauge cluster in front of him. Reaching out, he hesitated a moment, then armed it. An alert blared on his control panel, and he veered his craft sharply to the right to avoid incoming fire from the other fighters flying after him. Twisting the control knob in a circle, he steered his fighter in a spiral. The timer on the explosive in front of him counted the seconds down. "Clint, they've given the order to fire." Nyssa's voice held a note of desperation. "Whatever you're going to do, we're running out of time."

"That's my cue, then," Hawkeye replied. He corrected course, firing covering bursts behind him to deter the other alien ships from following him. "If this goes the way I'm hoping it won't, tell Laura I love her."

"Clinton Francis Barton, you are not about to martyr yourself," Black Widow snapped over the channel.

"That's not my intent, no, but this one's going to be pretty damn close," he retorted, glancing at the numbers counting down on the explosive riding shotgun in his ship.

"It may be close, but remember the ring," Nyssa reminded him. "You should still be able to get clear." As he approached the disc, a point of light shone at the center, then grew larger. The light grazed against the side of his fighter, and his eyes widened as the wing on that side was suddenly gone. The ship began to spin, but he kept steady, focused on his objective.

"That beam is hitting the middle of the Atlantic Ocean," Nyssa reported. "Going by the infrared weather satellites, temperatures have risen significantly throughout the ocean. At the location of the attack, the ocean is boiling."

"We can't have that," Hawkeye replied. Accelerating faster, he skimmed along the beam of energy, getting closer to the eye of the planet killer as the last few seconds counted down on the oxygen bomb. At the last possible second, he swerved directly into the path of the beam. He closed his eyes, bracing for impact while willing himself as far away as possible. Everything suddenly went quiet, and he opened his eyes to find himself drifting in space. Around him, the invading fleet floated, deceptively tranquil. A flash of light drew his attention, and he looked upwards to see the center of the planet killer light up in neon blue and white. The explosion almost seemed to move in slow motion. The conflagration spread as the massive weapon collapsed inwards, then was pushed outwards by the force of the explosion. The ships around Hawkeye were scrambling frantically now, as the shock wave traveled through the fleet. He watched as it bloomed like a lethal flower, unfurling its fatal petals in the space above the planet he called home. It collided with many of the ships as it traveled. Some were knocked violently off course. Others exploded, little flashes of white against the blue and gold background.

"Beautiful," Clint breathed.

"Hawkeye, hostiles on your six," Nyssa warned sharply. He started to turn to look, twirling slowly in a zero-gravity pirouette. He didn't turn in time to see the fighter approaching from behind, silent in the vacuum of space. He didn't hear the noiseless report of energy-based alien artillery. The impact of the weapon barely even registered in his conscious mind as it seared through flesh, organs and nerves instantly, leaving behind silence and cold as his lifeless body tumbled through space. The fighter that had fired on him flew past his corpse, accelerating to rejoin the fight.

* * *

"Noooo, Clint!" Nyssa cried out, gritting her teeth. At her feet, Darshan got up and laid his head in her lap, whining softly at her distress. She rested one hand on his head, fighting back tears.

"What happened to Clint?" Natasha's terse question sounded over the comm.

"Something happened to Barton?" Tony joined in with alarm. The others joined in a chorus of concern. Nyssa closed her eyes.

"Hawkeye is down," she reported.

"Where?" Natasha asked sharply. "If I can get to him…"

"No," Nyssa said softly. "It's too late." There were several long moments of silence as the team digested the news.

"He will be missed," Fury intoned. "It's not all bad news, though. He did manage to take out their planet killer, and that took out almost a quarter of their fleet."

"Thank you, Clint," Winter Soldier said softly, his tone making it a prayer for the departed.

"This is not over yet, I fear," Vision contributed. "The remaining ships are regrouping. The flagship remains, as well as more than five thousand fighters that are still fully armed and operational."

"There is also a phalanx of ships beginning to descend into our atmosphere," Nyssa informed them. "Going by the chatter that I'm able to pick up on their communication channels, they still intend to take the planet. It will just take more effort and fighting now that they don't have their most powerful weapon."

"We're not done fighting yet, either," Cap said resolutely.

"No," Wanda agreed, fire and fury in her tone. "If death and destruction are what they desire, that is what they shall have." Red glowed from her eyes and cascaded from her fingertips. She appeared in the middle of the fleet, staring up at the invading ships, and raised her arms. She made a grasping motion with her hands, then pulled them violently apart. The largest spacecraft floating above her tore apart, spilling Vruuxel and equipment out into the cold vacuum that surrounded it. Eyes blazing, she turned her attention to the next ship and repeated the gesture, with similar results. One of the ships exploded outward as Ant Man became Giant Man. Reaching out, he grasped a mid-sized cruiser in each hand, then smashed them together.

"We need to keep those ships from touching down on the planet," Captain America pointed out. "If they land, there will be lots of civilian casualties."

"On it," Iron Man replied. Changing direction, he flew towards Earth's atmosphere like a red and gold comet.

"Right behind you, Tony," War Machine chimed in.

"I'm there, too," Falcon joined in. "This is what I'm built for." Once he had entered the atmosphere, he pulled a lever on the front of his suit. Some of the extraneous pieces for surviving in space broke away, jettisoned towards the planet below. His wings spread from what had previously been his jet pack. Flying towards the nearest ship, he fired both barrels from the firearms Tony had equipped him with, then followed up with rockets from his jet pack. The blasts impacted on the spacecraft's shields, barely even shaking the ship.

"We'll have to get closer in," Iron Man suggested. "Inside their shielding. Aerate their hulls, let the atmosphere in."

"You sure about that?" War Machine asked skeptically. "These things are traveling at Mach 8. One misstep, and we're a bug on a windshield."

"I'm aware," Iron Man said archly. "Don't go splat."

* * *

Nick Fury stepped closer to Nyssa, watching her carefully. Her unseeing eyes were wide and staring blankly, gleaming suspiciously with unshed tears. Her face was pale, strained and drawn, exhaustion etched in the lines and shadows on her countenance. At her feet, Darshan whined quietly, nudging against her with his nose. On the viewscreen, several images flickered, fuzzing and jumping erratically.

"Dr. Taylor, do you need to take a moment?" Fury asked. His tone, while still commanding, was not unkind. Nyssa blinked for the first time since he had started watching her closely.

"No, sir," she breathed quietly. "I can't leave now; we've reached a critical juncture. They need me to…"

"They need you to be able to focus, not push yourself to the point where you're useless," Fury replied bluntly. "You've been working continuously since this all started, managing more than a dozen data streams, monitoring our fighters, listening in to enemy communications, coordinating our attacks. Friday can take over for some of those duties, but not all of them. Now, I still don't know how you do what it is that you do, but I can see that a task of this magnitude takes its toll on you. I can't afford to have you exhausted to the point where you start making dumb mistakes." Nyssa's indignance faded, and guilt flashed across her face. Fury sat on the table in front of her. "So, Patchwork Doll, only one question remains. Are you going to go recharge yourself, or do I need to relieve you of duty?" She sat back with a sharp intake of breath at his ultimatum, then shook her head. Pushing back from the table, she stood.

"I guess I could take fifteen and go get some coffee," she said ruefully. She paced over to the exit, Darshan falling into position beside her right leg automatically. In the doorway, she paused and half-turned back towards Fury. "Do you want me to bring one for you?" she asked, an impish twinkle in her eye. Fury shook his head at her.

"Sure," he sighed. "Black, no sugar." She gave a little nod, then left.

Bucky had gotten more precise with his attacks as he grew more familiar with using the teleportation ring and the layout of the Vruuxel attack vessels. He appeared suddenly in the engineering section, planted the activated grenade directly on the vulnerable engine, then disappeared before anyone even knew he had been there. He zapped himself into the next ship to repeat his strike, leaving a trail of wrecked and smoldering ships in his wake. He lost track of how many he destroyed, focused only on the next attack. He blinked into existence on one of the largest ships and reached into his pocket to find that it was empty. He had run out of the grenades Iron Man had given him. With a half-stifled curse, he quickly ducked down behind a piece of equipment to keep from being spotted.

"Tony, do you have any more of those oxygen grenades coming?" he asked sotto voce over his comm. "I'm out."

"A little busy at the moment, Soldier," Iron Man replied distractedly. "Production is temporarily suspended due to, you know, trying to save the planet."

"Actually," Nick Fury interjected, glancing over at Tony's workstation and the growing pile of gleaming spheres, "your station's still been spitting those things out. So, anyone who wants more can pop in and grab some." A moment later, Bucky appeared in the room. He paced over to the pile of incendiary devices and began loading them into every pouch and pocket he had available. He glanced around and frowned.

"Where's Nyssa?" he asked.

"Ran to grab some coffee," Fury replied. Bucky frowned. It was unlike Nyssa to abandon her post, and she certainly wasn't some secretary to fetch refreshments. It didn't appear that Fury was about to explain, though. With a shrug, Bucky returned to battle.

* * *

Nyssa's feet hurried along the corridor, but she wasn't rushing towards the coffee bar on the third floor or the half-full pot back in her quarters. Instead, she was headed for the twelfth floor. In the back of the storage room, among other pieces of medical equipment in varying degrees of development, a cryochamber hummed. Darshan whined beside her as Nyssa quickly overrode the passcode to get through the door. It took a moment to wade through the metal units crowding the small room, but then she was standing before the cryochamber, looking up at its hibernating contents. It took only a moment to begin the cycle to awaken the person inside. Nyssa waited breathlessly as he slowly thawed, returning to consciousness. His confusion was joined by suspicion and rage as memories and emotion were restored.

"What is this?" Ignatius snapped. "Why have you awakened me?"

"To offer you a chance at redemption," Nyssa replied calmly. "There is an invading alien fleet in orbit as we speak. Their atmosphere is extremely flammable once oxygen is introduced into it, and they are beginning to descend planetside. We need a fighter with your unique abilities."

"So you need my help," Ignatius sneered. "And what then? I help you save the planet, then return for my court martial?"

"If you help us," Nyssa countered, "that will certainly be taken into account. Your fate is not up to me alone, but I can lobby on your behalf. Perhaps you could even join the Avengers." Ignatius snorted, looking away. "If you do not help us," Nyssa continued, "that is your choice. But there may not be a habitable planet for much longer." Ignatius looked back at her, his eyes narrowing. "We need your help, Ignatius. I believe you could be the difference between life and death for everyone on Earth."

"How do I get there?" he asked, glancing around the room. Nyssa held up a small gold band.

"This ring will take you anywhere you imagine," she informed him. "I can give you the image of their ships. You should be able to travel right to it immediately." Ignatius looked at the gold band speculatively, glancing from Nyssa to the ring and back again. Slowly, he reached out and took it from her. Flames began to lick along his skin as he heated up. Reaching up, Nyssa filled his mind with the same images and information she had given the rest of the team. His burning flesh scorched her fingertips, and then he was gone.

* * *

Iron Man ran along the surface of the alien ship, ducking low as the energy shield shimmered above him. He was focused on the metal array ahead of him, at the tail of the ship. Extending his hands in front of him, he sent a double blast sailing towards the array. It exploded in a conflagration that soared over Iron Man's head, but the fire quickly vanished as the energy field evaporated. He pushed away from the hull and soared clear.

"Bingo," he said triumphantly. "Found the shield generator. Target that, then let's aerate the bastards." Turning around, he sent a volley of blasts towards the vessel, each one breaking off panels and burning holes through the alien metal. A few miles away, Falcon soared along the space between ship and shield, firing at the shield generator array as he went. He flew through the resulting explosion, then aimed his weapons straight downwards, blasting holes in the hull beneath him as he flew by. War Machine stomped his way down the hull, the repulsor cannon on his shoulder taking out any equipment he could spot. He scored a direct hit on the shield generator, and the field above him flickered and disappeared. Refocusing his aim, he fired at the hull repeatedly, watching it melt away until he could see through to the corridor inside. Modifying the magnetic field on his boots, he stomped to the next section and began again. An explosion above him drew his attention, and he looked up to see the next alien vessel over bursting into a fireball, debris streaking away across the sky. One chunk of debris flew towards him like a malevolent comet. He pushed away from the ship and flew, trying to get clear. As the ball of fire drew closer to him, he could just make out the figure of a man at the center of it. As his brain processed this, the flaming man collided with the alien vessel he had just left, disappearing inside it. A moment later, the ship burst into flames.

Nyssa returned to the command center, a cup of coffee in each hand. She set one down in front of Fury, then situated herself back at the table. She placed a nearly-empty coffee mug to her right, then rested both of her hands on the console at the center. The images on the viewscreen shifted as she took over monitoring, but remained steady, with no sign of flickering or interference.

"Feeling better?" Fury asked. Nyssa gave him a short, sharp nod, her unseeing eyes unfocusing as she concentrated on her internal world.

* * *

Wanda bared her teeth, propelling herself through the vacuum of space as she continued tearing apart the ships around her. Frozen Vruuxel and scorched debris drifted away, filling the planet's orbit. Some of it burst into flames as it descended into the atmosphere below. She paused a moment in her destruction, her attention drawn upwards by a bright streak of light. As it drew closer, she could make out a figure clad in red and blue, surrounded by golden light. The streak blasted through several ships, leaving burning wreckage in its wake.

"Danvers to Fury, are you there?" Surprised, Nyssa put the incoming transmission through the speakers. "Carol Danvers, reporting for duty." A broad grin spread across Fury's face.

"Captain Marvel, glad to have you on board," he replied. "You're just in time."

* * *

Wanda looked around at the battlefield around her. The newcomer was smashing through some of the larger ships. Thor was floating in space, hands extended, lightning leaping from his fingertips and engulfing some of the nearby ships. Giant Man was larger than even the cruisers, smashing ships together like a child playing with his toys. Flashes of energy sparked across his chest as the ships fired at him, and droplets of blood floated away from him, joining the flotsam drifting around the planet. One of the other ships exploded, and Vision emerged from the wreckage. She couldn't see the others immediately, but she could feel their presence. In the distance, pinpoint spots of light appeared as other alien ships detonated. She moved her gaze up, looking out at the thousands of ships that still remained, and for the first time, doubt crept into her soul like a chill hand. Her rage was beginning to flag, leaving a deep-seated and heavy grief.

"Wanda, are you okay?" Nyssa asked over her headset.

"There's so many," she replied. "How can we possibly defeat them?"

"The same way we always do," Captain America replied. "Together. Beside her, Black Widow suddenly appeared.

"If your rage is waning," she said, "I have plenty to spare." She extended her hand toward Wanda, who took it. Wanda could feel the anger seething within her friend. On her other side, the Hulk appeared. His hand slipped into Black Widow's, and his wrath channeled towards Wanda as well. On her other side, the newcomer stopped, hovering in space. Her eyes glowed gold, hair standing up from her head like a flame. On her chest was emblazoned a star.

"Your power is like mine," Captain Marvel realized out loud. "Perhaps we could augment each other." Wanda's eyes glowed red, and she extended her hand towards the woman. Power flowed from Captain Marvel into Wanda, and inspiration hit like a lightning strike.

"I have an idea," Wanda announced. "But I need everyone with me." She looked from one side to the other.

"Avengers, assemble!" Captain America called. One by one, the other Avengers materialized beside her, joining the human chain floating above the planet. Tapping into their joined energy, Wanda readied herself for a final attack.

* * *

The Vruuxel commander looked up in shock as the earthling woman's face appeared on their viewscreen.

"You are no longer welcome here," she informed him shortly, her speech translated through their speakers into their familiar, guttural tongue. "You are hereby banished. Do not return to this space again."

"What are you?" he growled. She stood, suddenly seeming larger than she had with his first impression.

"We are the Avengers," she informed him, "and this planet is under our protection." The image on the screen disappeared as the ship shook and shuddered around them, tossing them from their stations. The Vruuxel commander picked himself up from the floor.

"Report!" He commanded. The astronavigator scrambled to return to her station.

"The fleet is scattered," she reported. "None within communication distance."

"Where are we?" he demanded. She waved her tentacles in distress.

"We are not well acquainted enough with these star charts to say with any accuracy, sir," she said in a shocked and shaky voice. "But we appear to have been thrown twenty thousand light years from our previous location."

* * *

Wanda opened her eyes and gazed serenely at the empty sky above her. Not a single alien ship remained in orbit above the Earth. Even the debris that had been littered in space during the battle had disappeared. Releasing hands, the Avengers drifted apart for a moment, then one by one blinked out.

They reappeared in the command center beside a grinning Nick Fury. The room was filled with whoops and cheers of victory and celebration. There were hugs, high fives and congratulatory claps on the back. A few minutes later, Captain Marvel joined them, standing at the side of the room and watching their relieved revelry with the faintest of smiles. Bucky picked Nyssa up and twirled her around, kissing her thoroughly. She kissed him back, but not with as much enthusiasm as he expected. He pulled back and frowned at her.

"What's wrong?" he asked. She mustered a smile for him.

"I'm relieved it's over, and we're all still here," she said, gesturing to the room. "But I should probably go get the kids, and…" She hesitated, taking a deep breath. "Someone has to break the news to Laura." Bucky's mood immediately dropped. In the moment of exhilaration at their victory, he had forgotten what it had cost.

"I'll come with you," Natasha offered.

* * *

The procession through the hotel was funereal in its silence. Nyssa and Natasha led the way, with Wanda close behind them and the rest of the Avengers following. Nyssa knocked on the door, and Laura opened it. Her face brightened when she saw them. Behind her, the children were bouncing on the bed or glued to the television.

"We've been watching the news coverage," she said excitedly. "You were brilliant. And the skies are empty, and we're all still here, so that means we won, right?" Nyssa half-nodded, but reached out to take the other woman by the hand.

"Laura, I'm so sorry," she whispered. Laura looked at her sharply.

"What? Why?" she asked sharply, a quaver in her voice.

"Clint fought magnificently in the battle, and we couldn't have won without him," Nyssa informed her solemnly. "But he was killed in battle." Laura's eyes widened, and she slowly shook her head.

"No," she gasped, "no, it's not true." She turned towards Natasha, her expression desperate. "Nat, tell me it's not true." Natasha's face was tight, grief etched into her exquisite features.

"I'm sorry," was all she could manage. A tear trickled down her cheek.

"NOOOO!" Laura's cry echoed down the hall, and she collapsed to her knees, burying her hands in her face. Nyssa and Natasha knelt down beside her, offering their silent support as she wept.

* * *

 **Thanks to DarylDixon'sLover and karina001 for reading and reviewing! Also thanks to my silent readers. I probably won't get another chapter posted before the holidays, so Merry Christmas, Happy Solstice, Happy Hannukah, Happy Kwanzaa, Happy Holidays to all, whatever you celebrate! See you all next year (probably).**


	43. Aftershocks

**Disclaimer: Marvel Characters are property of Marvel. Original Characters are mine. Just for fun, not for profit.**

* * *

 **Aftershocks**

Clad in black, her expression somber and solemn, Nyssa drew her bow across the strings of her violin, filling the hall with exquisite and mournful music. Silence fell over those gathered there as she played, her fingers dancing over the strings, the melody she coaxed from her instrument telling the story of a man who had come from hardship, built himself into the hero they had all known and loved, and then fallen less than a week prior. Natasha had ventured into unknown space to find his remains, returning with his headless corpse and chagrined expression. He had been cremated, per his last wishes, and his ashes were displayed in a carved box that Bucky had made for the occasion. Outside Avengers Tower, flowers and candles left by mourners and well-wishers scattered across the sidewalk and leaned against the fence, making it difficult to pass by. Inside, the line of people come to pay their respects wound through the hall and spilled out onto the lawn outside. They filed past pictures and tributes, touched the famous bow, murmured condolences to his red-eyed widow and forlorn children. Tony paused, grasping her hand with both of his.

"Don't hesitate to ask," he told her earnestly, for once without his trademark facetiousness, "whatever you need for any of the kids, tuition, anything, don't worry about it. I'll make sure they are provided for." Laura smiled weepily at him, the tears that lay so close to the surface beginning again.

"Thank you, Tony," she said softly. He nodded at her.

"He was a good man," he assured her. She nodded acknowledgement. Finding himself without words, he nodded reflexively in response, then moved on to the refreshment table. Laura next found herself enfolded in a warm hug, which she returned. She smiled sadly at Natasha, whose red and puffy eyes rivaled her own.

"I guess we're both widows now," Laura joked weakly. Natasha tried to smile, but only managed to raise one corner of her mouth.

"You know whatever you need, I'm here for you," Natasha vowed softly. "And he'll never be forgotten. Not as long as we are alive." Laura nodded, finally releasing Natasha from her sisterly embrace.

"You'll always be part of our family," she assured the Russian woman. Natasha's pained smile was slightly wider this time. She moved on to wrap Lila in a warm and sympathetic hug. The teenager clung to her, tears starting up again. Bucky hesitated as he stepped closer to Laura, but the woman smiled at him wanly.

"Bucky," she breathed, and pulled him close, her arms wrapping around him. She sagged against him, borrowing for a moment his strength as he shared her burden of grief. "He saw you as a brother, you know," she whispered against his ear. Touched, Bucky swallowed down the lump that briefly closed his throat, then murmured that it was mutual. She clung to him for a second before releasing him and turning to Steve behind him. Bucky moved to the other side of her. Grace was hiding mostly behind her mother, her little arms wrapped around Laura's leg. Cooper was grim-faced and stoic, carefully keeping all emotion from his face. Lila was dabbing fresh tears from her cheeks. Gabriele was standing back a little from the line, as if she wasn't certain she belonged there, but her grief was as evident as the others'. Nate fidgeted with his pressed and starched funeral clothes, his face blotchy and eyes red-rimmed. Bucky gripped Cooper's hand in his, but didn't let go right away. The stone-faced Cooper looked up at him sharply.

"I just want you to know," he informed Clint's oldest son, "everything that he did, he did for you. For all of you. He told me all he wanted was to leave a better world for you to live in." Cooper's eyes widened, and he looked carefully at Bucky for a long moment before he nodded contemplatively. Bucky felt a tug at his pant leg, and crouched down to eye level with Grace, who was staring at him with round, dark eyes. He thought she was going to say something to him, but instead she just flung her arms around his neck, her face pressing into his cheek. He heard her sniffle, and put comforting arms around her.

* * *

Half an hour later, the receiving line had mostly dispersed. Laura had retreated to a corner near some pictures of Clint, a snifter of brandy clutched in one hand. Natasha huddled conspiratorially beside her. The younger children had retreated to a corner where a basket of toys had been provided. They were loud, but not as disruptive as Bucky had expected. Nyssa had finally put her violin carefully back into its case and appeared at Bucky's side. He had noticed she was using her hands more gingerly than before, although she hadn't mentioned any injuries to him.

Truthfully, he hadn't had much of a chance to talk with her in the time that had elapsed since the battle. They had gotten home with the twins just in time to put them back to bed, and Nyssa had passed out as soon as she lay down. His own exhausted slumber lasted for longer than he typically slept. He was awakened by Jameson and Brooklyn crawling on him. After they started jumping on his head and his back, he decided to abandon any further attempts to doze and got up to make them breakfast. Nyssa had remained pale and still in the bed, and didn't awaken until nearly suppertime, blinking blearily. She was awake long enough to eat a few bites of dinner, then played with the twins before putting them back to bed. The next few days had been busy, filled with official reports of the battle, assessing the damage the planet had taken in the attack, and otherwise dealing with the aftermath. It would be weeks, probably, until a full accounting had been made. In addition, Nyssa had returned to childcare duties and helped Laura with arrangements for the memorial service, shouldering what she could of the responsibilities to take the weight off the grieving widow.

* * *

"…came out of nowhere, like a comet, and the next thing I knew, that ship was burning to the ground," Rhodes was relating. The Avengers were clustered together, recounting memories of Barton and of that final battle.

"What, like some kind of human torch?" Sam said incredulously. "That explains a lot, actually. But where did they come from? The only one I know of that's still living is locked up in cryofreeze in Avengers Tower." Tony shook his head.

"Nope, Ignatius has been missing since the battle," he said casually.

"Not missing," Nyssa contradicted as she appeared beside Bucky. He slipped an arm around her shoulders automatically, and she leaned against him. "It's all in my report. I gave him the option of fighting alongside us, and he took me up on it." This earned her surprised looks from all present, including her husband. Steve raised his eyebrows at her.

"Did you offer some kind of incentive to get him to do that?" he inquired. Nyssa shook her head.

"Not really. I was fairly sure he would do the right thing once he learned the planet was at stake," she declared.

"That was it? Nothing else?" Bucky asked skeptically. He knew Nyssa could be persuasive, but sometimes she surprised even him. Nyssa shrugged nonchalantly.

"I may have mentioned that there was a possibility he could join the Avengers," she admitted, then angled her face towards the floor. "That didn't seem to be much of a motivator, though. He never returned after the battle. In fact, it appeared that he transported himself directly into the sun."

"He did what?!" Both Sam and Tony chorused in shock. Nyssa sighed.

"I think it might have been a form of suicide," she speculated. "Even he only lasted a few seconds in the heart of a star." She frowned and looked around at the group. "Did nobody read my report? I discussed all of this in great detail."

"Sorry, Nys," Steve said apologetically. "I've been a little busy. And preoccupied." He exchanged glances with Seraphina beside him, holding an already-sleeping Saoirse. Bucky vaguely recalled that their daughter had been sick. Nyssa nodded.

"I think we all have been," she conceded. Standing on her tiptoes, she kissed Bucky on the lower edge of his jaw. "The kids are getting overstimulated and over tired. I'm going to take them home and put them to bed," she informed him. Bucky frowned, slightly disappointed that she was leaving so soon, but nodded.

"I'll see you when I get home, then," he replied, then raised an eyebrow at her. "If you're still awake." She chuckled softly at him.

"You'll see me either way," she replied dryly, "but I may not see you." He snorted and shook his head.

"Good night, Doll," he murmured. She smiled at him, then turned to go, leaving her hand linked with his until the distance between them forced her to drop it. He watched her wade into the horde of playing children and extract their twins, then leave with their small hands linked with hers.

* * *

The hour grew very late, and the crowd at the memorial had thinned. At the bar, Steve and Bucky raised a pair of shot glasses and clinked them together.

"To Barton," Steve said.

"To Clint," Bucky agreed. They both downed their shots and set the glasses back down. Steve swallowed the fiery liquid down, then frowned down at the empty glass, turned upside down on the bar.

"You know," he mentioned, "it occurs to me that there's an awful lot of people who deserve more honor than we had a chance to give them." Bucky nodded thoughtful agreement.

"Well, it's not too late," he pointed out. Glancing over the bar, he quickly jumped behind it. Deftly, he scooped a stack of shot glasses in his right hand and lined them up, little fallen soldiers marching across the bar. With his left hand, he neatly filled each glass from a bottle behind the bar, then set it aside. Picking up the one at the end of the row, he held it up to Steve. "To the Howling Commandos." To his surprise, Steve shook his head.

"No, not as a group," he contended. "That wasn't all they were." Bucky raised his eyebrows at his oldest friend.

"Gonna take a running shot at getting good and drunk, eh?" he observed. Steve raised his shot glass.

"To Dum Dum," he intoned. Bucky nodded, a short, sharp jerk of his head, clinked his glass against Steve's and tossed the strong liquor back. They drank to Frenchie, to Gabe, to Monty and to Jim, to other soldiers who had fought and fallen alongside them. Taking a deep breath, Bucky raised a toast to Howard Stark, which took Steve by surprise. In response, he raised his glass to Peggy. Bucky had to refill their shots before they began recounting all those they had known and lost from their time aboard _Sanctuary_ , and everyone since then _._ By the time Bucky was strolling home, he thought he felt the start of a slight buzz, though he wasn't certain if the warm feeling in his middle was due to the alcohol or the ritual and bonding with Steve. It did manage to slightly thaw the edge of the cold knot of grief twisted in his stomach. He yawned and stretched before crawling into bed beside a still-restless Nyssa. Before he could even lean over to give her a kiss, he was asleep.

* * *

"Are you sure you're up to this trip?" he asked in concern. Nyssa raised her eyebrows at him as she shrugged into the Patchwork Doll tunic that had hung in the closet for the past two and a half years.

"What do you mean by that?" she inquired carefully. Bucky shook his head at her.

"Just that I know you're still exhausted. You haven't been sleeping well since the battle, you barely eat, and you've spent all your waking hours helping everyone else," he pointed out. She paused, the look of surprise on her face giving him a small thrill of victory. It wasn't often he was able to catch her off guard. Crossing the room to her, he put his hand on her shoulders. "You're the one who preaches about self-care," he reminded her gently. "Where did yours go?" Nyssa sighed.

"You're not wrong," she grudgingly admitted. "But what else would you have me do? I've gotten requests from sixteen different regions, people begging me to come help find survivors. Are you suggesting I tell them they will just have to die because I could really use a nap?" In the aftermath of the Vruuxel's brief but brutal attack, the planet was still undergoing aftershocks. Earthquakes had been reported around the globe, triggering tsunamis, volcanic eruptions, wildfires, death and destruction. California and Canada were fighting wildfires worse than ever experienced before. Ash from the erupting volcanoes and billowing smoke obscured the skies, making air travel nearly impossible and rescue efforts agonizingly slow. Bucky shook his head slowly.

"No," he sighed. "I just hate to see you burning yourself out."

"Well then," she quipped with a self-deprecating smirk, "good thing you won't be there to watch."

"Just promise me you'll remember to eat. And sleep," Bucky admonished. Nyssa smiled ruefully.

"I will. When I have time. The fridge is pretty well stocked, and there's some ready-made meals in the freezer for when the days get busy. Brooklyn is going through a phase where she mostly just wants chicken nuggets, but keep offering her other things, too. Jamie will still eat most things, but if Brooklyn gets stubborn about her food, he will follow her lead. Try to get them outside for at least a few hours; it really makes a big difference at bedtime." Bucky blinked at her sudden shift into mother mode. "Make sure they don't get too much screen time, and especially not for a couple hours before bed. On Mondays they like to go to storytime at the library in the morning. The rec center has a drop-in play time on Tuesday afternoons. On Wednesdays, they have swimming lessons with Marquis at 2." Bucky interrupted her litany with a snort.

"Swimming lessons?" he repeated. She nodded.

"Of course. How else would they learn to swim?" she inquired.

"My father threw me in East River and called instructions from the bank," he disclosed with a shrug. Nyssa chuckled.

"And how did you enjoy that?" she asked slyly.

"It was… slightly terrifying," he admitted. She nodded knowingly.

"The twins have been loving their swimming lessons," she reflected. "The rest is optional, but I would try to get them to that, at least. Unstructured time to play is good, too. And there's always the virtual reality room when it's not being used for combat training. Friday has a few of the kids' favorite settings on preset."

"I'm sure we'll survive," Bucky said sardonically. While it was true Nyssa shouldered the bulk of the childcare duties, it wasn't as if he'd never done it before.

"I know you will," she assured him. "Maybe you'll even enjoy it."

"How long do you think you'll be gone?" he asked. She knelt down and put Darshan's working harness on him. The dog seemed to sit a little straighter as she did up the buckles.

"A week or ten days, maybe two weeks," she guessed, then her expression became grim. "After that, the chances of finding survivors dramatically decreases." She took a step forward and placed her hands on his chest, her face turning up towards his. "When I come back, I'm going back on inactive status again. I already talked to Nick about it. I know I'm pushing hard right now, but it's temporary." Bucky put his hands around the small of her back, then traced up along her spine to her shoulders, pulling her closer. He smiled when she shivered slightly. It was nice to know he could still affect her that way.

"When you get back, we should have a date night," he suggested. She laughed softly.

"It has been awhile, hasn't it?" she mused.

"Much too long," he confirmed, bending to capture her mouth with his. He lingered there, one hand moving up to tangle in the relaxed curls she had allowed to grow long again. He had known that he didn't want her to go, although he knew she was needed, but he abruptly realized how much he didn't want her to leave. He broke off the kiss and took a breath, preparing to argue her out of it, but she shook her head and stepped back.

"This is something I have to do," she reminded him. "You and the kids will be fine. We can try video chats every night before bed, assuming I'm someplace it's safe to do so." Sliding the teleportation ring onto her finger, she picked up her suitcase with one hand and rested the other on Darshan's head. "I love you." In a blink, she was gone, along with her dog. Bucky stared for a moment at the spot she had occupied just a heartbeat before. Heaving a sigh, he made his way down the hall and paused outside the twins' bedroom. In the gentle light of the nightlight, he could see the tangle of blankets with arms and legs poking out, and Brooklyn's tousled curls spilling over the pillow. Despite having separate beds, the twins still preferred to sleep in the same one, though they alternated which one most nights. Bucky stood watching them slumber for several minutes, then decided he might as well turn in, too.

* * *

 **Thanks to DarylDixon'sLover, heleana1, karina001, SomebodyWhoCares and Qweb for your comments and feedback. I know Clint's death was shocking, but I did consider it carefully before doing it, so it wasn't just a random, for-the-hell-of-it choice.**

 **This chapter is a bit shorter than mine typically are. It was going to be quite a bit longer, but the next part is slightly different in tone for most of it, so I decided to let this stand alone. Coming up next, Bucky as a solo dad and more twins mischief! Stay tuned!**


	44. Pancakes and Shenanigans

**Disclaimer: Marvel Characters are property of Marvel. Original Characters are mine. Just for fun, not for profit.**

* * *

 **Pancakes and Shenanigans**

The next morning, a loud crash jolted Bucky abruptly out of deep slumber. He sat bolt upright in bed, then dropped to the floor, half crouched as he listened for more clues to tell him who was intruding on his space. Hushed whispers coming from the kitchen, then a giggle. He relaxed slightly as he awakened fully and realized, despite the twilight hour, that the disturbance was caused by members of his own household. Straightening up, he paced out to the kitchen to find pieces of shattered glass strewn about the floor. Brooklyn perched on top of the refrigerator before the most inaccessible cabinet in the kitchen, which was open. Jameson crouched on the countertop beside the refrigerator, Balaur balanced on his shoulder. Bucky blinked as he realized the dragonet was nearly the same size as his son. Stopping short of the shards of glass on the floor, he folded his arms over his chest.

"What's going on here?" he asked bluntly. Brooklyn looked slightly guilty.

"We were just trying to get breakfast, Daddy," she explained. Jameson nodded agreement. Bucky raised an eyebrow at her.

"Oh, really?" he challenged. "That isn't where we keep the breakfast cereal. Or the breakfast bars. Or any breakfast food, really. In fact, I'm pretty sure the only things we keep in that cupboard are breakable vases and my secret stash of imported chocolate that I keep there for when Mommy needs cheering up." Brooklyn giggled.

"Not secret anymore, Daddy," she said triumphantly, waving a chocolate bar at him.

"I can see that," he replied dryly. He held up a hand. "Let's not have candy bars for breakfast, though. Stay where you are until I get this glass cleaned up, and then how about I make pancakes?" The kids both cheered.

* * *

Despite being a frequent visitor in their household, Elijah still knocked and waited before entering, which Bucky did appreciate. The knock this morning came when Bucky was in the middle of his third attempt at making teddy bear pancakes, while bacon sizzled in a pan at his elbow.

"Door's open!" he called. Elijah entered, chuckling at the sight of Bucky moving around the kitchen, his gait slightly hindered by the twins sitting on his feet and clinging to his calves.

"Good morning, Bucky!" Elijah said cheerfully. "Are the twins around?" Both children giggled madly, and Bucky shook his head.

"Sorry, I haven't seen them lately. Maybe check their bedroom?" he suggested. More giggles, which escalated into squeals of laughter as Elijah disappeared down the hall to check. He came back shaking his head.

"I don't see them there. Say, are those new boots?" Elijah asked with a sly grin. Bucky flipped his finally satisfactory teddy bear pancake over and nodded.

"They are. I think I might have to return them, though. They're awfully heavy." He stomped dramatically across the kitchen to grab another plate while his "new boots" cackled with glee at their game.

"Well, if you see Brooklyn or Jameson, can you tell them I love them and I'm sorry I missed them?" Elijah asked.

"Sure," Bucky agreed. Brooklyn let go of his leg and sprang to her feet.

"Grampa, we're right here!" she announced, clearly pleased at the ruse they had pulled.

"Oh, there you are!" Elijah exclaimed in feigned surprise. Brooklyn ran and jumped into his arms. "How's my best girl?"

"I'm okay," she said, then pouted dramatically. "Daddy wouldn't let us have candy bars for breakfast." Elijah looked scandalized.

"No candy bars for breakfast?" he repeated. "Well, that's no fun."

"I was going to ask if you wanted to join us for pancakes and bacon," Bucky interjected, "but now I'm not so sure." Elijah laughed.

"I'd love to," he accepted, and set Brooklyn down. "Who wants to help me carry plates to the table?"

"Me, me!" Both children chorused, pushing past each other to try to help.

"So, Elijah," Bucky asked as he finished cutting Jameson's pancakes into pieces and slid the plate back in front of his son. "Are you in the habit of dropping by for breakfast?" Elijah chuckled and shook his head.

"Not exactly," he admitted. "Nyssa mentioned she was going to be out of town for awhile, so I thought I'd stop by and see if you needed any help. You seem to have things under control, though."

"So far, so good," Bucky confirmed. "Though we've only been awake for about an hour, so…" he gestured vaguely with his fork. Brooklyn half-stood up out of her booster seat, putting one hand in her plate as she reached for the bottle of maple syrup in the middle of the table. "Whoa, whoa, there, let me help you with that." Bucky took the bottle out of her hands.

"No, Daddy, I do it! I do it myself!" she demanded. Bucky hesitated, anticipating a sticky mess splashed across the table, but set the bottle back down and held his hands up in surrender. Brooklyn eagerly grabbed the bottle and upended it over her plate.

"Where is Mommy?" Jameson asked, looking from Bucky to Elijah and back again. Bucky took a deep breath. He knew Nyssa had told them she would be away for awhile, but he was also anticipating many more questions – some repeated - before she returned.

"Mommy is helping people who need her, remember?" he reminded his son. "They're lost in collapsed buildings or burning forests, and she's helping to find them while they're still alive." Jameson frowned, then nodded contemplatively.

"I miss her," he reflected. Bucky nodded.

"Me too, buddy. We'll have a video chat with her tonight," he reminded him, then glanced at his daughter. "Whoa, Brooklyn, that's enough syrup!" He righted the bottle and rescued it from her grasp just as her plate threatened to overflow with the sticky liquid.

"Mmmm, syrup," Brooklyn chirped happily, swirling a forkful of pancake through the puddle on her plate. "Ooey, gooey, booey, fooey, dooey syrup," she added in a sing-song voice. Bucky snorted and shook his head with a half-smile. He looked back at Elijah, who was watching his grandchildren with a wide grin.

"Are you going to be stopping by for breakfast all week?" Bucky asked teasingly. Elijah chuckled.

"A tempting offer," he declared. "I might be able to make it tomorrow. But I'll be out of town for awhile after that. Ruth asked me to come out to Connecticut for a few days. Something about the Monterose Museum." Bucky frowned slightly.

"Is everything okay with it?" he asked lightly. Elijah shrugged.

"Hard to say. She was being kind of mysterious about it. But I haven't been to a staff meeting since I went casual, so I don't really know what's been going on. Guess I'll find out soon enough," he said reflectively, then took another bite of pancakes. He chewed slowly, then swallowed. "I thought maybe the kids might like to go with their old Grandpa to the Children's Museum. Bucky raised his eyebrows and glanced at the kids, who had brightened at the mention of the planned activity.

"What do you think about that?" he asked the children.

"Yaaay, museum!" Brooklyn declared, clapping syrup-covered hands together. Jameson echoed her sentiment, waving his hands in the air.

"Great!" Bucky pronounced cheerfully, eyeing his sticky offspring. "We can leave right after your bath."

* * *

Less than an hour later, Brooklyn and Jameson were both freshly scrubbed and dressed in clean clothes. Bucky was sporting a new, dry shirt, the old one victim to enthusiastic splashing in the tub. The children's museum was crowded and loud, with kids screeching in delight and chasing each other around and through the various brightly colored exhibits. Bucky smiled watching his children playing and exploring with Elijah, with the other kids, with each other. After a couple hours, however, his smile had faded. His ears were ringing from the constant noise, and he was starting to get a headache. Jameson hid behind him, burying his face in Bucky's thigh. Brooklyn was smiling less and whining more, starting to push other kids when they were playing with what she wanted. Bucky scooped up his son.

"Are you hungry, Jamie?" he asked. "Should we go get some lunch?" Jameson nodded, twining his arms around Bucky's neck and hiding his face in his shoulder. Bucky caught Elijah's eye and gave him a high sign. Elijah nodded and corralled Brooklyn, who protested loudly.

Bucky was relieved when they arrived at the child-friendly restaurant, releasing the twins to chase through the maze of tubes and slides while he and Elijah enjoyed greasy burgers and fries. There was still a crowd here, and he thought wistfully of their comparatively quiet apartment.

"Do you suppose she's keeping herself out of trouble?" Elijah mused around his burger. Bucky shrugged.

"If someone's life is at stake, probably not," he pronounced quietly. He knew Nyssa could take care of herself, but she also took bigger risks when the stakes were higher. He hoped her desire to return home helped her to make safer choices, but he wasn't holding his breath. "She'll be checking in tonight with a video chat. I'll remind her to stay safe and be careful." Elijah's eyes twinkled at him.

"Good luck with that," he replied with a chuckle. The fact that Elijah didn't seem particularly concerned helped the knot of worry in Bucky's stomach loosen slightly. He took another bite of his burger and watched Brooklyn tumble off the end of the slide head first and roll to her feet.

* * *

It was barely past one in the afternoon by the time they got home, but Bucky felt like it should be bedtime already. Needing a break, he turned on cartoons for the twins and let them relax on the couch. They had already spent several hours in educational and active pursuits, he reasoned, flopping down on the couch beside them, so a little screen time wouldn't hurt. He was exhausted. How did Nyssa do this on a daily basis? Looking over at the children, he noticed they had both fallen asleep. With a satisfied sigh and a little smirk, he changed the channel to something less child-friendly.

His smirk faded a few minutes later as he paused on a news channel. They were talking about the California wildfires, showing acres of trees and houses going up in flames. Behind a reporter talking about the difficulties facing the rescuers, amongst Red Cross tents and groups of volunteers, he caught a glimpse of a familiar figure with a dog by her side. Her smoke-blackened clothing was streaked with dirt, spattered with reddish-brown, torn in some places. The camera caught a side of her face, her pale complexion smudged grey. She was running towards the fire, not away from it. Bucky's breath caught in his throat, and he leaned forward, suddenly paying closer attention to the reporter. The news segment was ending, and the image flashed back to the studio, where the news anchors commented on the desperate and devastating situation. Bucky let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and sat back on the couch.

* * *

He made the executive decision to order pizza for dinner. Brooklyn ate three slices, while Jameson picked the meat off his and ate only the cheese. Pulled-apart pizza crusts soon covered his plate. Bucky snagged the last piece and was just finishing up when the comm console chimed.

"Mommy!" Brooklyn squealed, slipping out of her seat and dashing towards the console. Jameson followed; his mouth still full of tomato sauced mozzarella. Bucky furtively tossed a handful of Jameson's discarded toppings into Balaur's habitat, then followed his children. Brooklyn was already standing on the chair in front of the console, her little fingers seeking the call button on the touchscreen. Nyssa appeared on the monitor, the canvas of a tent behind her giving few clues to her location or current situation. Her face was pink, recently scrubbed clean, and her smile widened as she saw her family. Darshan's ears were visible at the bottom of the frame.

"Mommy, Mommy!" the twins chorused, bouncing up and down. The dog's face appeared on the screen, his nose flooding the picture as he sniffed at it. Nyssa chuckled and pushed his head down.

"When are you coming home?" Brooklyn asked. An apologetic wrinkle appeared between Nyssa's eyebrows.

"I'll be home in a week," she promised. "I miss you all. People here still need me."

"Are you saving babies?" Jameson queried anxiously. Nyssa nodded solemnly.

"A few babies," she assured him. "Also, mommies and daddies and brothers and sisters and grandpas and grandmas." Jameson's eyes widened.

"Lots of people!" he observed. Nyssa nodded agreement.

"We also rescued a few deer, some coyotes and a cougar," she informed him. Jameson's face brightened.

"Wow!" he exclaimed, clearly impressed.

"What did you do today?" she asked. The children eagerly filled him in on the day's activities, Brooklyn taking the lead with Jameson interjecting every now and again. Nyssa listened attentively. Bucky took advantage of the kids' distraction to clean up after dinner. Every now and again, he would pause to check on them and watch his wife talking to them. The soot and smoke smudges were gone, but she couldn't wash away the shadows of exhaustion or hide the haunted look in her eyes. As the twins' attention began to wander, Nyssa read them a bedtime story. When they ran off to play, Bucky finally had a chance to talk to her alone.

"How's the situation there?" he asked. Nyssa gave him a half-smile.

"Well, I wouldn't bring the kids here for vacation right now," she admitted. "But I've been through worse." Bucky frowned. He had seen the news coverage. Thick smoke that made it hard to breathe, the stench of burning homes and wildlife, unbearable heat. It had to be hell on earth there, even though she was trying to assuage his worries by understating it. One more reason to be concerned for her well-being.

"How much longer are you staying there?" he asked. She shook her head.

"Through tomorrow, probably," she informed him. "Then on to Hamamatsu to help after the tsunami."

"Have you been able to find a lot of survivors?" he probed. Nyssa gave him a lopsided smile.

"A few hundred," she confirmed. "Not as many as I was hoping. There have been pockets of people sheltering from the fires and smoke."

"And have you been eating and sleeping?" he asked pointedly. She made a face at him.

"When I can," she hedged, "just like I promised you." He raised an eyebrow at her.

"So that would be a no," he clarified. She opened her mouth to protest. "Or, at the very least, it's a 'not enough'." She closed her mouth again with a sigh. He shook his head slightly. "I know you're compelled to help, but try to take care of yourself, too, before you're a burned-out husk." Nyssa snorted.

"It's a crisis, Bucky," she reminded him archly. "I'll do what I need to do. Then I'll rest. I am well aware of my tendency to push too hard, but you can trust I do know my limits."

"I do trust you," Bucky assured her. "That doesn't mean I don't worry. I worry because I love you and I miss you."

"I love you and miss you, too," Nyssa replied. She glanced offscreen. "Looks like they're gearing up to go out again. I have to go. I'll call again tomorrow." The screen changed to a notification that the call had ended.

* * *

"Just one more book, Daddy, please!" beseeched Brooklyn. Bucky shook his head.

"We've read six. That's enough. It's time to brush teeth and go to bed," he reminded them. Jameson frowned.

"What about bedtime yoga?" he asked. "Mommy always does bedtime yoga." Bucky chuckled softly.

"Maybe another night you can show me how that goes," he told his son. "But Daddy is doing bedtime tonight, and I don't know the bedtime yoga routine."

"Are you going to sing to us?" Jameson asked as he herded them in the direction of the bathroom. Bucky groaned and shook his head.

"Sorry, buddy. You don't want that, trust me," he protested.

"Awww," Jameson replied, his shoulders and head drooping.

Five minutes later, the bathroom sink and mirror were covered in water droplets and toothpaste splatters, but the twins' teeth were reasonably clean, their faces scrubbed, their pajamas only half saturated and spattered in toothpaste drool. Bucky took that as a win and ushered them back down the hall to the bedroom. Brooklyn immediately commenced with jumping on the bed, while Jameson insisted he needed to lay on top of Bucky to get to sleep. Then Brooklyn needed water. Then Jameson wanted some, too, but in his own cup. Then Jameson realized he couldn't find his stuffed elephant, Taroo. After a frantic eight-minute hunt, they found Taroo under the dining room table. They finally all got settled back into bed, but Brooklyn couldn't seem to settle down, asking a million questions about where Nyssa was, what she was doing, what fires were like and what would happen if their house caught fire. Bucky answered the first few patiently, then began reminding her she needed to stop talking and try to sleep. Forty-five minutes later, they were both soundly asleep. Bucky carefully got up out of their bed and made his way to the living room. He contemplated sitting down on the couch and enjoying the first time to himself he had had all day. After a few moments, he decided he was too exhausted. He just wanted to go to bed.

* * *

"Daddy, Daddy, Daddy," Brooklyn's sing-song voice broke into his slumber. He awakened to see blue eyes the same shade as his centimeters away. Brooklyn's nose rubbed against the end of his. "Nosey, nosey, Daddy." She giggled with delight, clinging to him as he stirred and groaned awake. He rolled over to see Jameson sitting crouched on the bed nearby him.

"Good morning, Jamie," he greeted him. Jameson responded with a high-pitched, ear splitting shriek, flapping his arms out at his sides. Bucky blinked at him, then realized Balaur was perched on the headboard.

"He's a dragon," Brooklyn informed him, jumping on the bed around him.

"I see that," Bucky acknowledged. He gave Jameson a reproving look. "We've talked about this, Jamie. You know Balaur isn't supposed to be out of his habitat when I'm not up and conscious." Jameson shrieked again, flapping his arms in protest as he went into an extended yowl. He broke character and cupped his hands around his mouth.

"That was dragon speech, Dad," he whispered loudly. "I was telling you that Balaur doesn't like his habitat. It's too, too squishy." Before Bucky could respond to that revelation, Brooklyn did a somersault and leaped on top of him, her knees digging into his lower back. He groaned.

"Daddy, can we go to the park?" she implored.

"Right now?" he asked in astonishment, looking over at the clock. It was not quite six in the morning. "It's too early right now, Babydoll. Give me some time to wake up, and let's have some breakfast. Then maybe the sun will be up, and we can go to the park."

"Yaaaay!" Brooklyn did a flip from one side of the bed to the other, one hand brushing his hip as she flew over him. Bucky raised his eyebrows in surprise at her prowess.

* * *

Brooklyn's favorite park was just a few blocks' walk from Avengers Tower. Between making breakfast, getting the twins to eat, coaxing Balaur back into his habitat, cleaning up after breakfast and getting everyone dressed in appropriate clothing, it was very nearly nine o'clock by the time Bucky pushed the double stroller up by one of the benches that ringed the playground. The day was still cool, but promised to be clear and warm. No doubt the play structure would be swarming with children in a couple more hours, but for the moment, they had the playground to themselves. With a whoop, Brooklyn unbuckled her safety harness and sprinted to the climbing wall. Bucky got Jameson out.

"Dad, can you push me on the swings?" the boy asked.

"Sure, buddy." Bucky followed Jameson over to the swings. It didn't take long for more people to arrive. A handful of other children soon joined his, chasing each other over bridges and through tunnels with giggles and squeals. Brooklyn made a beeline for the new children. Jameson signaled that he was done with the swings and scampered off as well. Bucky took a step back, folding his arms over his chest as he watched them play.

"Which one's yours?" Bucky glanced to the side as a dark-haired woman with smiling eyes sidled up to him. He thought he saw some suspicion in her eyes as well. He supposed a man who came to a playground without children would appear somewhat suspect. He gestured vaguely to Brooklyn, who was swinging across the monkey bars with her tongue sticking out in concentration.

"That one up there, and…" He scanned the play structure quickly, feeling slightly alarmed when he didn't see Jameson immediately, but relaxed as he spotted him. "The one crouching in the grass over there." The woman raised her eyebrows.

"Two of them?" she commented, looking vaguely impressed. "Are they…"

"Twins? Yeah," Bucky replied, anticipating the common question.

"Wow!" she exclaimed enthusiastically. "How old?"

"Ah, just about two," he admitted after a moment of hesitation. The woman's eyes widened as she looked from Brooklyn to Jameson and back again.

"Really? Wow, I would not have guessed that," she observed, looking at Bucky askance. Bucky smiled tightly. He was well aware of the contrast between their appearance and their chronological age, but he didn't think he should have to explain it to random strangers. It was none of her business.

"Yeah, they're… big for their age," he acknowledged. She didn't appear satisfied with this non-answer, some suspicion creeping into her face again. He was saved from further questions by Jameson running up to him, hands cradled around a pile of bloody fur.

"Daddy, he's hurt!" Jameson exclaimed, holding his hands up towards Bucky. Bucky crouched down to take a closer look and realized that he was holding a mangled squirrel. "Can we take him home with us? I can take care of him until he's better." Bucky shook his head.

"I don't think that's a good idea, buddy," he contradicted. "Balaur will see him and think that we brought him a snack."

"I'll keep him in my room and not let Balaur see him," Jameson argued. Bucky shook his head.

"He can't come home with us," he said firmly.

"Awww…" Jameson's eyes filled with tears.

"Look, he's a squirrel. He lives outside. He belongs here in the park," Bucky explained patiently. He didn't want to tell his son that the squirrel didn't look like it would make it much longer, and he definitely didn't want to bring the rodent home with them. "Why don't you see if you can find a nice, soft, safe place for him right here? Maybe we can come back tomorrow and check on him." Jameson frowned intently, looking sadly down at his sciurine patient.

"Okay," he said softly, and wandered towards the grove of trees beyond the playground. Bucky shook his head as he straightened up. He watched as Jameson crouched down under one of the trees and lowered his hands carefully to the ground.

"I swear, he would bring home every animal in the neighborhood if I let him," he reflected ruefully. The dark-haired woman laughed. The faint suspicion on her face had transformed into admiration and something else.

"They do keep life interesting," she commented. Bucky nodded.

"That they do," he agreed.

"Mine is the little blonde four-year-old over there on the trapeze bar," she continued, although Bucky hadn't asked. "Her name is Madison. And I'm Melissa." She stuck her hand out in greeting. Not wanting to be rude, Bucky shook it.

"Bucky," he introduced himself. She smiled brilliantly at him.

"Nice to meet you, Bucky," she chirped. "Do you come here to this park often?" He spared a surprised look in her direction. It almost sounded like a pickup line, but she couldn't possibly…. Could she? He shook his head, resting his left hand on his cheek, prominently displaying his wedding ring.

"Not typically," he admitted. "But my wife is out of town, on a… business trip." He wasn't sure that was the right term for it, but it certainly wasn't a vacation. Melissa's eyes widened as she noticed his metal hand.

"Wait a minute," she gasped. "Are you… _the_ Bucky? Bucky Barnes, Captain America Bucky?" He sighed.

"Steve Rogers is Captain America again now," he reminded her.

"I know, but… that's you? You're him?" she persisted. He nodded begrudgingly. Her eyes widened even further, and she batted her lashes at him.

"You know, I'm a big fan of yours," she purred, stepping closer. Her hand stroked the exposed metal of his arm. Bucky took a half-step to the side, moving so she was no longer in his personal space.

"I'm… very flattered," he managed, feeling uncomfortable with the sudden attention. She seemed to take the hint, and didn't try to touch him again.

"Maybe we could exchange numbers," she suggested. "Get our kids together for playdates." Bucky moved his head noncommittally. At the moment, Brooklyn and Madison were huddled atop the tallest tower in the play structure, giggling. Future playdates could be a possibility. Melissa was still watching him.

"Maybe," he hedged, but didn't volunteer his phone number. Melissa took this as agreement and stepped closer to him, one hand grazing his hip.

"How long is your wife going to be out of town?" she asked coyly. He frowned over at her. He had meant the comment as a warning that he was married and off-limits, not an announcement of opportunity.

"Depends how things go," he hedged. "She might be home later tonight." She absolutely wouldn't, but this woman didn't need to know that. Melissa looked crestfallen.

"You must be looking forward to that," she commented dejectedly. He smiled tightly.

"Me and the kids both," he agreed.

"She's a lucky woman," Melissa added enviously. Bucky wasn't certain what to say to that, but he was saved by Jameson rushing up to him once more, this time with a large snake draped over his arms and shoulders. Bucky recognized the pattern on its scales and felt a thrill of concern as he realized it was a boa constrictor. Melissa recoiled in disgust as the boy held up one arm with the snake coiled around it.

"Look what I found, Daddy," he announced. Bucky raised his eyebrows.

"That's a very big snake, Jamie. Is it hurt?" he asked lightly. Jameson shook his head.

"No, just pregnant," he announced happily. Melissa recoiled further. "Can we bring her home, Dad? I can raise the babies." Bucky eyed the snake with apprehension. Part of her tail was beginning to wind around his son's neck. Kneeling before Jameson, he grasped the constrictor firmly just behind the head and unwound the reptile from his son.

"If I recall correctly," he reminded Jamie," her babies won't need anyone to raise them. They can fend for themselves right away. Right?" Jameson nodded slowly. "So we don't need to take her home with us. I'm sure she was just finding a place to nest, so we should let her get back to it."

"Aww." Jameson drooped in disappointment. "Okay." The pregnant boa constrictor slithered away, and Bucky moved aside hastily to clear its path. He put a hand on Jameson's shoulder.

"Look, why don't you go up there with Brooklyn and see if she'll play a game with you," he suggested. Jameson nodded and trotted off in that direction.

"Where on earth did that snake come from?" Melissa gasped, her face pale. Bucky grinned. Nyssa wouldn't have been fazed by the animal.

"My guess, either escaped from a pet store or from someone's private terrarium," he hypothesized. "Although it's possible the city set them loose on purpose, for rodent control." Melissa's eyes widened.

"Do you mean… there could be more of them around here?" She scanned the ground as if expecting snakes to begin crawling out of the bushes at her. Bucky shrugged.

"Possibly. But they're usually nocturnal, so I wouldn't worry too much about it." He had learned more random animal facts since Jameson had become verbal than he had ever dreamed possible. Melissa nodded, though she seemed only partially reassured. Wrapping her arms around her torso, she glanced at the ground anxiously. Bucky concealed a small smirk as he folded his arms over his chest, watching the children play.

Melissa continued to attempt conversation, with some very pointed flirting thrown in, as if to make it very clear to him that she was interested. There was a part of him that thrilled at her attention. She was an attractive woman, and he couldn't remember the last time Nyssa had flirted with him. The arrival of the twins had chilled what had previously been a torrid and steamy relationship. He loved his children, and he loved his wife, but there were times he missed the way things used to be. The woman's fawning stroked his ego, left him feeling warm and slightly flustered. While he was flattered, he had no intention of cheating on his wife. Bucky glanced at his watch. It was nearly noon, and his stomach growled, reminding him that it had been several hours since breakfast.

"Brooklyn, Jameson!" he called across the playground. "Time to go, guys! Let's go get lunch!"

"Aww," Jameson pouted, but climbed down from the play structure obediently. He took a long drink from his water bottle before crawling into his side of the stroller. Bucky glanced up at Brooklyn, who was balking at the top of the play structure.

"Come on, Brooklyn," he chided. "Time to go refuel. Do you want pizza or McDonald's?" He figured the promise of the most kid-friendly food he could think of should be enough of a lure.

"Pizza!" Jameson volunteered as Bucky crouched down to buckle him in. Bucky grinned at his son.

"Leaving so soon?" Melissa queried, looking disappointed as she drew closer to him.

"Yeah," Bucky replied unapologetically. "Gotta feed the kids, and then maybe I'll get lucky and they'll take a nap."

"Isn't that your daughter over there?" Melissa asked, pointing over Bucky's shoulder. He spun around to see Brooklyn sprinting across the grassy field that separated the playground from the busy street. He swore and glanced down at Jameson, buckled securely into the stroller.

"Stay there," he said severely, pointing a finger at his son. Melissa put a hand on the handle of the stroller.

"I'll keep an eye on him," she promised. Bucky didn't have time to contemplate whether it was a good idea to entrust his son to a relative stranger. Spinning around, he sprinted after Brooklyn. She was more than a hundred yards ahead of him, and running faster than anyone with legs that short had a right to. She glanced over her shoulder at him, and the sound of her ecstatic giggle carried to him on the wind. He realized with a cold shock that she thought this was a fun game.

"Brooklyn, stop!" he roared as he ran. "Red light! Red light!" She didn't pay heed, her little legs carrying her ever closer to the cars rushing through the street. He was getting closer, closing the distance between them, but she was just a few steps from the traffic. Putting on a last burst of speed, he snatched her into his arms just as she ran off the curb. Pulling her protectively to his chest, he didn't have time to do anything other than turn and brace himself as the Nissan Altima slammed into his legs. He felt them fly out from under him, and fell back onto the car's hood. Keeping his arms rigid in a protective cage around his daughter, he rolled desperately away. The car's driver laid heavily on the horn. Bucky climbed shakily to his feet and waved apologetically in the general direction of the street. Brooklyn clung to his neck. "Are you okay?" Bucky asked. Brooklyn nodded, her giddy grin beginning to fade. He limped back towards the playground. He reached the nearest bench and sat down heavily. With the adrenaline beginning to fade, his legs were throbbing, he was shaking, and he may have wrenched something in his back. Melissa flew over to him, pushing Jameson in the stroller.

"Oh, my God, are you okay?" she gasped, patting him on the back and shoulders.

"I will be," he said tersely. He suspected he may have sprained or fractured something. Jameson unbuckled himself and approached his father, concern etched into his diminutive features.

"Daddy, you're hurt," he observed, patting Bucky's knees.

"I'll be fine," Bucky told him reassuringly, then grimaced slightly. "I just need a minute."

"I'll kiss it and make it better," Jameson offered.

"You don't have to…" Bucky started, shaking his head, but Jamie was already kneeling down, pressing his lips to Bucky's shins. Surprisingly, the pain lessened slightly. Bucky sighed. "Thanks, buddy."

* * *

He found a backpack-style carrier shoved in the bottom of the diaper bag, and loaded a protesting Brooklyn onto his back.

"No, Daddy, I want to walk!" she argued. Bucky shook his head.

"Right now, I need to make sure you are safe," he said firmly. "I don't want you to run off on me again. Brooklyn, you nearly got hit by a car!"

"No, it's okay, Daddy," she insisted. "I was just going to jump on top of them to get across the street." Bucky shook his head, tightened the shoulder straps and buckled the chest clip.

"I don't think that was going to work out for you the way you think, Babydoll," he said dryly.

"I saw you do it," she pointed out. Bucky paused a moment.

"When did you see me jump on cars?" he asked skeptically.

"Uncle Sam showed us," she replied. "It was a video." He made a mental note to thank Sam for that later.

"You're still staying in the backpack," he told his daughter. She whined and shoved at his shoulders as he set off, pushing Jameson and the diaper bag in the stroller. After half a block, she settled down, snuggling into his back, and he felt the weight of her head settle into the curve where his neck met his shoulder. They were just a few blocks from home when he realized she was asleep. Jameson was quiet in the stroller, and he wondered if he had fallen asleep as well. Pausing, he circled to the front of the stroller to check. Jameson was sitting placidly, watching the people walk by them on the street. In his hands, he clutched a frog. Bucky let out a breath of startled annoyance and crouched down in front of his son.

"Jamie, where did you get that frog?" he asked. Jameson grinned and held up the amphibian.

"His name is Herbert," he informed his father. "He wants to come live with us. Please?" Bucky sighed.


	45. Paternal Love

**Disclaimer: Marvel Characters are property of Marvel. Original Characters are mine. Just for fun, not for profit.**

* * *

 **Paternal Love**

"…and then Daddy picked me up and spun me around, and then the car went rrrrr and Daddy went waaugh!" Brooklyn's arms pinwheeled dramatically as she flung her body backwards, illustrating the day's events for her mother over the video chat. Nyssa was watching with eyebrows raised, her smile looking somewhat fixed. Jameson sat with legs crossed in front of the screen, cradling Herbert. They both were dressed in their pajamas. Bucky had allowed them to stay up a bit later than usual to talk to their mother. Brooklyn had become very kinetic, caroming off of walls and jumping on everything. Jameson wasn't as hyperactive, but he had had four meltdowns in the fifteen minutes preceding her call. Bucky could tell they needed to go to sleep, and was looking forward to bedtime.

"Really?" Nyssa finally responded, after a hesitation that lasted a heartbeat too long. "Then what happened?"

"Then we went home," Brooklyn summed up airily. "As soon as Daddy's legs healed enough."

"And I found Herbert!" Jameson added helpfully, holding his frog up so she could get a better view. Nyssa's smile widened, her expression softening as she gazed at her son.

"Where is Herbert going to sleep tonight?" Nyssa asked. Jameson clutched the amphibian to his chest.

"In bed with me," he replied, as if it should be obvious. Nyssa smiled, but shook her head slightly.

"I don't think that's a good idea, sweetie," she said gently. "What if you rolled over on him and smushed him in your sleep?" Jameson shook his head, hiding Herbert protectively in his hands.

"I wouldn't!" he protested defensively.

"We got a terrarium and lights at the pet store this afternoon," Bucky interjected from the background, reminding his son and informing his wife at the same time. "Herbert has a safe place to sleep tonight." Jameson's face crumpled, and he dissolved in tears. Bucky scooped him up, and Jameson immediately turned his face in to soak Bucky's shirt. Nyssa gave him a sympathetic look.

"I guess I better let you get them to bed," she observed. "Are you okay?" He was still sore, and the limp hadn't quite disappeared, but he was hopeful that a night of rest would change that.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he fibbed, shifting his weight from one aching leg to the other as he patted his sobbing son comfortingly on the back. Brooklyn cartwheeled through the living room, collided with the coffee table and collapsed on the floor with a wail. Nyssa grimaced sympathetically.

"Good luck," she said regretfully, then ended the call. Bucky picked up his other crying child and carried them both to their bedroom.

He finally emerged – both children asleep and Herbert settled safely in his new terrarium – almost an hour later. As tired as they obviously were, getting them to settle down enough to sleep had been a challenge. Bucky yawned as he walked through the living room. He paused and looked over towards Balaur, perched in his habitat. The dragonet flapped his wings, and Bucky was startled to see the pinions collide with both sides of the cage before they were at full extension.

"That is getting a little cramped for you, isn't it?" he realized. Balaur trilled and tilted his head to the side. Bucky ran a hand through his hair. Balaur's habitat already took up more of the living room than he liked, and he wasn't certain how large the dragon would get by the time he reached his adult size. He would have to mull over the problem. But not tonight.

* * *

By the third or fourth morning, Bucky was starting to feel like the mornings at least were getting into a routine. It still took a ridiculous amount of time to get everyone dressed and out of the apartment. Even if they were only going across the hall. Bucky knocked on the door to the apartment that Steve now shared with Seraphina and Saoirse. Brooklyn was poking Jameson in the side repeatedly, giggling when he whined and pushed her hand away.

"Brooklyn, stop that," Bucky chided. "He's telling you he doesn't like it, so you need to stop. His body, his rules."

"It's open!" Steve's tenor called from inside. Bucky opened the door, and the twins dashed through. He followed them as they darted into the living room. Steve had his easel set up in the corner, where the natural light was best. Now that his visitors had arrived, he set his palate aside. In another corner, another easel was set up in miniature. Saoirse, dressed in her diaper and a paint-splattered smock, was enthusiastically smearing paints on her own child-sized canvas. Her face was smeared in green paint, and blue and brown streaked through her strawberry blonde pigtails. Brooklyn and Jameson ran over to greet her. Jameson immediately threw his arms around the little toddler, getting paint all over his clothes. Saoirse patted his face and hair, leaving brown and yellow fingerprints.

"Whoa, pal, slow down there," Steve suggested. "Let's get the smocks on first." Jameson obediently stood back and raised his arms up. Steve deftly swooped a vinyl cover over him. "And I've got an easel set up for you right over here." He turned Jameson by the shoulders and steered him to one of a pair of easels he had set up on an opposite wall. Joyfully, Jameson dipped the end of a paintbrush in green paint and began moving it in broad swaths across his canvas.

"Me, me, me!" Brooklyn demanded, jumping up and down with her arms raised over her head. Steve chuckled as he put a smock on her, too.

"There ya go, Brook," he announced. She turned to her canvas with an intent expression.

"Daddy, what should I make?" she asked, tugging on Bucky's shirt.

"Whatever your heart desires," Bucky replied. "I'm sure whatever you decide on will be beautiful." Brooklyn huffed and turned back to her canvas, her face a dark study of concentration. Satisfied that both of his children were occupied, at least for the moment, Bucky turned his attention back towards Steve. "So what are you working on nowadays?"

"Experimenting with some mixed media," Steve replied, gesturing to his canvas. Amidst the paint, Bucky could see scraps of cloth, stone and wood combining to create a landscape unlike anything he had seen before. "What do you think?"

"It's different from your other work," Bucky observed. Steve raised an eyebrow at him.

"Is that good or bad?" he queried. Bucky shrugged.

"Neither, it's just different," he equivocated.

"But do you like it?" Steve pressed. Bucky stared at the canvas for a moment thoughtfully, then nodded slowly.

"Yeah, I do," he decided. Steve nodded seriously.

"Well, good. Because I was thinking of making it as a gift for Nyssa, so it might end up hanging in your house," Steve declared. Bucky gave him a surprised look.

"Really?" he asked. Steve nodded.

"In a way, she was kind of inspiration for this," he explained. "Phi had the idea. Since she can't see most of my other work, if I put different textures in, she would be able to 'see' it by feel." Bucky gave Steve an astonished look, touched by the gesture.

"That's… really thoughtful, pal. I'm sure she will love it," he remarked.

"No, Jamie, stop it!" Brooklyn interrupted their conversation with a howl, followed by an ear-piercing shriek. Bucky turned to see Jameson streaking blue paint through the middle of Brooklyn's canvas. Brooklyn was drawing back one hand, still clutched around her paintbrush, and Bucky quickly waded in to intervene before she punched Jameson in the nose.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Bucky rebuked. "We don't solve problems with our fists. Hitting hurts."

"But he _ruined_ it!" Brooklyn wailed. Now that the initial flare of temper was over, the upset came through. Bucky turned his fatherly expression towards his son.

"Jamie, keep your paintbrush on your own canvas," Bucky reminded him. "Painting on your sister's made her very upset." Jameson regarded his wailing sister, and the smug look on his face faded slightly. "Now, Babydoll…" Bucky crouched down next to her, and she buried her tear-streaked face in his shoulder, her body heaving with sobs. Bucky put comforting arms around her. "I know that's really upsetting."

"I would be furious," Steve contributed helpfully. Jameson hung his head. Brooklyn's tears slowed slightly, and she pulled back to look at her father with a sniffle. Bucky rubbed her shoulder.

"So, what do you want to do?" he asked. "Do you want to keep painting on that picture, or start over with a new one?" Brooklyn sighed, looking at the paint-streaked canvas sadly.

"New one," she decided, punctuating her words with another sniffle. Bucky nodded.

"Okay." Standing, he switched the spoiled painting for a fresh, blank canvas, moving her painting station further away from her brother's while he was at it. Jameson was still standing with hands hanging by his side and head bowed, expression ashamed. Bucky picked him up.

"Sorry, Daddy," he said softly. Bucky shook his head slightly at him.

"I'm not the one you need to say sorry to," he reminded him gently. "I'm not the one whose picture you ruined." Jameson's face crumpled, and for a moment he looked like he might cry. He looked over Bucky's shoulder at his sister.

"Sorry, Brook," he called out. Brooklyn ignored him, continuing to paint on her new canvas.

"She might still be mad for a while," Bucky noted gently. "And that's okay." Jamie's face fell.

"I didn't want her to be mad," he whined. "I thought she would laugh." Bucky nodded.

"Sometimes people don't react how we think they will," he noted. "Why don't you give her some space for now and work on your painting, let her work on hers? Maybe she'll be ready to accept your apology later." He set Jameson back down on the floor. Shoulders still drooping, he wandered back to his easel. Bucky turned as he heard Steve chuckle.

"That's definitely not how your father would have handled that," Steve noted. Bucky grinned.

"Yeah, he probably would have sent me to my room with a sore ass. Well…" He shrugged. "That was then. Times have changed. And Nyssa had me read about twenty books on child psychology, child development, attachment parenting…" Steve raised his eyebrows at him.

"Did she give you a test on them, too?" he asked playfully. Bucky shook his head.

"Just the ones she wrote," he joked back. Steve's eyebrows rose even higher. Bucky glanced over at his children. Jameson was creeping closer to his sister, his expression still distressed. Brooklyn kept her back to him. Oblivious to the tension between her friends, Saoirse was smearing bare, paint-covered hands across her own canvas. "Really, it's more of an extended practical exam, anyway," he noted. He looked back at his friend. "How has it been going for you, now that Seraphina is back at work and you're mostly home with Saoirse?" Steve grinned.

"You mean, now that I get to spend my days creating art and playing with my daughter, occasionally leaving to go save the world?" he quipped. Bucky grinned.

"Well, when you put it that way…" he noted. Steve shook his head and turned back towards his own work in progress.

"It's not quite how I thought married life was supposed to go," he admitted. "It's not how it was when we were growing up. But I can't say I have much to complain about."

"Brooooklyyyyn…" Jameson whined, standing behind his sister. She seemed like she was still ignoring him, but suddenly she whirled around and slashed her paintbrush across his face, leaving a broad stripe of yellow-streaked pink stretching from his forehead to his cheek. Pointing at her handiwork, she let out a screech of glee. After a moment, Jameson's look of surprise and consternation melted into good-natured mirth, and he joined in, giggling. Their laughter was infectious. Saoirse chortled adorably, turning around to look at the older children. Bucky chuckled, enjoying their merriment, and Steve grinned.

* * *

Sam's eyes narrowed, shifting side to side as he contemplated his opponents. He glanced from his cards to the player on his left, then to his right.

"Do you have a… blue dolphin?" he asked. Brooklyn shook her head.

"Go fish!" she announced. Sam groaned and drew another card from the draw pile.

"Man, how am I losing to a baby?" he groused. Brooklyn frowned at him.

"I am not a baby!" she protested.

"I mean, technically they're toddlers," Bucky pointed out reasonably. Sam shot him a dirty look.

"Oh, right, that changes things completely," he said sarcastically.

"They are very bright toddlers, though," Izumi noted. "I'm impressed." Brooklyn dimpled at her, swiveling in her seat.

"Auntie Izumi, do you have a goldfish?" she asked.

"I do!" Izumi replied, obediently handing over the requested card. Brooklyn proudly laid the match down on the table in front of her, beside the other seven sets she had already paired, then held up her empty hands.

"I win!" she announced triumphantly. Sam groaned and set his cards down on the table.

"Well, I'm out," he declared, standing up. "I'll go check on dinner." Brooklyn and Jameson immediately vacated their spots at the table and went to explore the living room. Bucky gathered the discarded playing cards and shuffled them all back together, favoring Izumi with a half-smile.

"So, you've officially achieved 'Auntie' status," he noted. Izumi laughed. Bucky pointed the deck of cards at her. "You know what that means, right?" Her smile faded slightly as her expression became somewhat puzzled.

"What does it mean?" she asked.

"It means you can't break up with him, or my children will be heartbroken," Bucky clarified. Izumi looked at him carefully, as if trying to decide if he was joking or not, and then laughed softly, glancing down at her left hand. Bucky's eyes widened slightly as he noticed a sparkle there that he was pretty sure hadn't been there before.

"I think your children's hearts are safe," she said quietly. Bucky's eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline.

"Are congratulations in order?" he asked bluntly. Izumi grinned, but put a finger to her lips.

"We haven't officially announced it yet," she murmured, glancing nervously towards the kitchen where Sam had disappeared. Bucky smothered a grin.

"Well then, unofficially, congratulations. And I promise to act surprised when he mentions it," he promised.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Sam's voice carried, not from the kitchen, but from the living room, and Bucky went to see what trouble his kids was causing now. The twins had discovered Sam's collection of action figures, lined up on a shelf that was too high for them to reach – unless they climbed. Most of them were still in the original packaging, and all of them were Falcon in different costumes. Sam was extricating a half-opened package from Brooklyn's hands as Bucky walked into the room. "I've told you before to leave my collectibles alone."

"Brooklyn, remember that Uncle Sam doesn't like anyone else to play with his dolls," Bucky added with a smirk. Sam rolled his eyes at him.

"They are not dolls," Sam countered archly. "They are not toys. They're going to be worth thousands one day. These babies are going to fund my retirement. They need to stay mint." Jameson was holding one of the few action figures that was not still in its packaging. His expression went from perplexed to intrigued after a moment as he regarded the toy. Sticking his tongue out, he licked it tentatively. Sam gave him a shocked look. "What are you doing?" The shock on his face suddenly brightened with dawning realization, and he started to laugh. "Mint condition, little man. Not mint flavored. It just means perfect condition." Shaking his head, he chuckled as he removed the action figure from Jameson's grasp. Jameson frowned.

"Why don't they just say perfect, then?" he asked. Sam shrugged.

"I dunno. Sometimes it's nice to have more… expressive ways to say things. Pretty sure that's why we have profanity, too," he speculated.

"Mommy says we should be careful who we use swear words around," Jameson offered conversationally. "Some people don't like to hear them."

"Or just use ones they don't know," Brooklyn contributed helpfully. Sam laughed out loud and shook his head.

"And how do you know what swear words they don't know?" he inquired with interest. Brooklyn shrugged.

"Well, you know," she replied, gesturing with a hand as if it was obvious. "From other languages they don't know. Like Russian. Or Romanian." Sam scoffed.

"You know swear words in other languages?" he asked skeptically, then glanced over at Bucky. "Oh, of course they do, they're your children."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Bucky asked. Sam folded his arms over his chest and smirked, but didn't reply beyond a raised eyebrow. "I'll have you know I have drastically cut back on the profanity." Sam smirked.

"Yeah, okay," he replied. "Anyway, dinner's ready. Anyone hungry?"

* * *

The pool in Avenger's Tower was on the sixteenth floor. Bucky stowed the bag with their clothes in the locker room, then took his children by the hand and led them out to the main pool deck. They were all dressed in their swimming suits in preparation for getting in the water. Marquis, similarly clad was crouching by the shallow end of the pool, rummaging through a basket of pool toys. Bucky slowed his pace slightly, taken by surprise. He hadn't seen the Trini man without his shirt before. Not only did the four arms do some strange things to the musculature in his upper body, but there was significant scarring across his torso and back. It was immediately obvious that he hadn't been born with an abnormal number of arms, and that however he had acquired them had not been a painless process.

"Marquis!" Brooklyn called, dropping Bucky's hand and running towards him. Jameson waved as the big man straightened up and turned, his customary grin appearing at the sight of the twins.

"Brooklyn, gyul, slow dahn," he called in warning. "Doh wan' yuh fall on yuh bamsee." Marquis' accent made it difficult for Bucky to immediately understand what he was saying, but Brooklyn apparently had no such trouble. She slowed from a sprint to a fast walk, which turned to bouncing as she drew nearer. Marquis chuckled and extended a hand towards her. "Save dat for de watah, chile." She caught his hand and pulled her legs up, hanging her full body weight from his arm.

"Throw me in, Marquis!" she squealed. He chuckled, his laugh a low rumble.

"Soon enough for dat," he assured her. He glanced up as Bucky approached with Jameson still in hand, and his eyes widened slightly. Bucky felt the gaze travel across his chest and over the scars, the hardware, and the metal arm. He didn't have as much scarring now, after Wakanda, but it was still noticeable, and of course the metal arm was hard to miss. Marquis' eyes traveled back to Bucky's face, and his smile broadened. "Good tah see yuh, Mistah B."

"Likewise, Marquis," he replied with a nod. "How has Superkids been with Nyssa gone?" Marquis shrugged.

"Oh, yuh know. Not as many kids. Nothing I can't handle," he replied, climbing down the ladder into the pool. His accent was lightening, Bucky noticed, making him easier to understand as he code-switched to more formal speech in Bucky's presence. Marquis extended his two top arms towards the edge of the pool, and Brooklyn and Jameson both jumped into the water, catching hold of his hands to keep from going under the water completely. Bucky climbed down in the water and followed at a distance as the other man pulled the twins through the water, supporting them each with two hands as they kicked their legs and splashed their arms enthusiastically through the water. Any skepticism Bucky had about swimming lessons was soon dispelled as he watched his children paddle and glide through the water like happy sea otters. They floated on their backs, practiced holding their breath underwater, and clumsily tread water for nearly a minute. Before long, they were racing from Marquis to Bucky and back again. Bucky found himself impressed at the other man's laidback, easygoing way of redirecting the children and getting their attention back to what he wanted them to be doing. When he announced their time was up and the lesson was over, both children protested, Marquis only laughed and reminded them he would see them again soon. He waved as Bucky herded them back towards the changing room.

* * *

"Daddy, hurry up!" Brooklyn demanded, trotting ahead of them down the hallway.

"Brooklyn, slow down and wait," Bucky countered. She paused, turning to face him as he and Jameson closed the distance between them. Making a face at him, she put her hands down on the carpet and attempted a cartwheel. She hadn't mastered it quite yet, and her feet only rose a few feet off the floor. She tried again, kicking one foot up higher, but fell on her bottom just as Bucky and her brother passed her, reaching the door to the virtual reality room. Bucky tossed a teasing look her way as he opened the door. "Come on, Brook. Hurry up," he said playfully. Brooklyn got to her feet and dashed after them as they entered.

With no program engaged, the virtual reality room was a large, blank space. The walls were matte black, so dark it was difficult to judge the size of the room, even with lighting set into the ceiling every few feet. The walls had a strange effect of making your eye want to slide away from it, and Bucky was slightly uncomfortable with it.

"Friday," Brooklyn chirped, "give us a playground."

"Which would ye like, lass?" Friday responded, amusement in the programmed AI voice. "I have two dozen preprogrammed options on file."

"Ninja Course!" The request came from behind them, and Bucky turned to see Wanda and Pietra joining them, as they had agreed. Brooklyn jumped up and down, clapping her hands in anticipation as the space around them shifted and rearranged itself into an obstacle course.

"Great idea, Pietra!" she cheered. "Let's race!" Everything was scaled down for the tiny humans that would be using them, but it looked challenging enough that Bucky raised his eyebrows. The three children clambered over to the green stripe painted across one side of the course. With a grin, Bucky walked over to the starting line and raised his left arm.

"On your mark," he began, and all three children crouched into starting positions. He could tell this was not the first time they had tried this course. "Get set. Go!" He let his arm drop, and stepped out of the way as they took off. Brooklyn took the early lead, swarming up the climbing wall at the start of the course, but Pietra and Jameson weren't far behind. He shook his head as he walked back to where Wanda was still standing.

"This is what they do for fun?" he commented disbelievingly. "It reminds me of boot camp." Wanda grinned at him.

"It's a bit different when you're choosing to do it," she pointed out. She shook her head slightly. "Pietra's been obsessed with that show on the television, the Junior Ninja Warrior Championship. So, I'm not surprised." They watched as the children reached the top of the wall and began climbing up the ropes mounted at the top. Wanda glanced over at Bucky. "Are you going to be attending that UN debriefing session on Friday? I thought Fury said it was mandatory for everyone who fought against the Vruuxel." Bucky frowned at her in confusion. He hadn't heard anything about a meeting, but he had been mostly focused on coordinating playdates and getting through each day with everyone still alive and intact. Before he could ask her more about it, however, they were interrupted by shrieks of protest from the middle of the course.

"You can't _do_ that, Pietra!" Brooklyn insisted. "That's cheating!" She was standing atop a tall foam block, pointing accusingly at Pietra, who was now in the lead, standing innocently on the other side of a foam wall.

"Yeah, no fair!" Jameson agreed. Pietra raised her voice, arguing back. The room echoed with childish voices in disagreement. Bucky jogged over to see what the issue was.

"Hold up, time out," he called, forming his hands into a T. "Brooklyn, tell me what's going on."

"Pietra didn't climb over the wall," Brooklyn explained, pointing. "She just went through it. We can't do that."

"That's true," Bucky agreed. "Pietra, let's hear your side." By the time he finished playing referee and timed the remainder of the race, he had forgotten that Wanda had mentioned the meeting. He then was sidetracked with making sure nobody got hurt as the children got bored with the predetermined course route and began inventing more creative ways to play with the wasn't until later, after supper was over and the children were playing for a little while before he started the bedtime routine, that he even recalled the meeting was happening. He paused in his cleanup of the kitchen to glance through his emails. His eyes widened as he realized he had nearly 500 emails in his inbox after eight days of not checking it. He scrolled through and noticed the email from Fury, but before he could open and read it, a wail from Jameson drew his attention back to the present moment. He set the phone down and went to investigate.

* * *

"No, Brooklyn, you can't have another cup of water," Bucky said exasperatedly. "You've already had two drinks and a snack, we read five books, you said good night to Balaur and found your special jammies. You're stalling. It's time to sleep."

"But, Daaaddeee," she whined. "I don't wanna go to sleep." Bucky sighed and pulled her closer, tucking her under his arm and against his side. Jameson was already snuggled against his other side. He was quiet, clutching Taroo, but when Bucky looked over at him to check, his eyes were still open.

"If you don't sleep, you'll be too tired tomorrow to enjoy any of the fun things we have planned," he said reasonably. Brooklyn gave him a surprised look.

"Like what?" she asked. "What are we doing tomorrow, Daddy?"

"Well, Uncle Steve and I were talking about taking you guys out to Cooperstown," he informed her. She frowned, climbing on top of him.

"What's in Cooperstown?" she asked.

"Well, there's the Farmer's Museum," he told her. "Which is basically a real, live farm with real, live animals." Beside him, Jameson squeaked and quivered in excitement. "And there's also the Baseball Hall of Fame." Brooklyn's eyes widened. She loved playing catch with Bucky, and always perched next to him on the couch when he watched the games on the television. He had contemplated taking both of them to a game, but didn't think their attention spans were ready for that just yet. Bucky held a finger up an inch from her nose, and Brooklyn went cross-eyed looking at it. "But you have to get a good night's sleep tonight, or we can't go. It's a long drive there, and I don't want to spend that long in the car with Miss Crankypants." Brooklyn giggled, bouncing up and down on him. "So that means," he clarified, shifting her off of his chest and back down to his side, "you need to lay down, settle your body, and go to sleep." She snuggled against him, rolling over, her back nestled into his ribs. She closed her eyes, but he could feel her fidgeting beside him.

"Daddy," Jameson piped up from his other side. Bucky suppressed an irritated sigh. He had been lying with them for nearly forty-five minutes, but they seemed no closer to sleep than they had when he began. He briefly considered calling Fury to have him tell them to just go the fuck to sleep, but he wasn't certain how effective that would be, either.

"Yes, Jameson," he replied, making an effort to keep his voice even.

"I miss Mommy," Jamie mumbled into his arm. Bucky's irritation transmuted into a tired, frustrated affection. He rubbed Jamie's arm.

"Me too, Buddy," he said softly.

"Me, too," Brooklyn added, her voice ending in a squeaky sob. "When is she coming home?"

"In just a few more days," he assured her. Both children were sniffling and whimpering now. "Friday, do we have any recordings of Nyssa singing on file?" he asked, casting about for something that would reassure everyone.

"I have twenty-seven recorded tracks by Dr. Nyssa Taylor," Friday replied, "including fifteen lullabies, recorded over the past several months." Bucky's eyes widened.

"You couldn't have mentioned that a week ago?" he asked in disbelief, thinking how much easier bedtimes would have been with that in his arsenal.

"They were not requested," Friday retorted archly. Bucky suddenly got an image of a woman with a scandalized expression, hands on her hips.

"Do you have the song Mommy always sings at night?" Jameson asked tremulously. There was a chime of affirmation, and then gentle guitar chords played over the speakers.

"Since the moment we met, I held you in my arms," Nyssa's voice drifted through the dark room, and Bucky felt both children immediately relax. "Wanted to wrap you in love, keep you safe from harm. But there's life to be lived, adventures to thrive on; so instead my love follows you until you arrive home…" Listening to her voice, Bucky felt a pang. Her presence was palpable in the room as it filled with her music. Before the song ended, both children were asleep. He lay a little longer, listening to her voice. It had been hard to maintain contact while she was away. Responses to text messages took hours, and even during the video chats they set up, she was distracted and often had to leave before he felt the conversation was over. Carefully extricating himself from the sleeping twins, he wandered back out to the living room and turned on the television.

It had become part of his nightly routine to watch the news. Disaster coverage was both wide-spread and prominent in the twenty-four-hour news cycle, especially since so many had hit different regions of the globe. He often caught a glimpse of Nyssa in the background, though she seemed to be avoiding interviews. He wasn't the only one who had noticed. One of the local news stations had begun a new feature recently called, "Where in the World is Patchwork Doll?" Bucky found himself at once amused, annoyed and relieved by it. It certainly made it easier for him to keep an eye on her. Tonight, she was in India, where there had been flash flooding, although earlier in the day there had been reports of her in Australia, which was enduring powerful wildfires. Bucky flipped open his phone and pulled up the map graphic he had been marking her locations on. He added the new additions, along with the date. Switching to text messaging, he sent her a goodnight text, then tucked his phone back into his pocket. He didn't wait for her replies anymore.

He was surprised by an alert just a few minutes later, and checked his phone.

 _Love you too. Sleep well, sweet dreams._ Seeing her response eased a knot in his stomach he had barely been aware of. With a sigh, he smiled to himself, then went into the bedroom.


	46. Foundations

**Disclaimer: Marvel Characters are property of Marvel. Original Characters are mine. Just for fun, not for profit.**

* * *

 **Foundations**

The next morning, Bucky awoke to find both of his children snuggled up against him, still asleep. He took advantage of the relative quiet and lack of distraction to try and catch up on his emails. Much of it was junk or spam, but there were a handful of crucially important ones. He was half kicking himself for not staying on top of them. He had thrown himself so fully into the role of Daddy that some of the other things had fallen by the wayside. He sucked in his breath and reread the email from Fury, then double checked the calendar. He swore aloud, then immediately glanced guiltily down at the sleeping children.

"Fuck what, Daddy?" Brooklyn asked, eyes still closed. She blinked sleepily up at him a moment later, rubbing her bright blue eyes as she woke up more fully. Bucky sighed.

"I think we're going to have to cancel our trip to the aquarium with the Bartons today," he said regretfully. "I have a really important meeting that I have to go to."

"Awwww," Brooklyn groaned disappointedly. She sighed. "Fuck." Bucky glanced over at her, torn between amusement, pride and disapproval at hearing the profanity coming out of her mouth, but didn't scold. Instead, he pulled her closer to his side.

"Hold on, though," he said thoughtfully. "Just because I can't go, doesn't necessarily mean you can't. Let me check with them."

* * *

"Thanks for being flexible," Bucky said as he set the diaper bag on the counter. "They were really disappointed when I thought we might have to cancel." Laura nodded. Brooklyn and Jameson bumped against his legs, rushing to greet Gracie.

"Happy to do it," she replied. "I'm not sure who's been looking forward to the trip more, Gracie or Lila." Bucky raised his eyebrows at her.

"Really?" he asked, skeptical that the teenager wanted to go to an aquarium with his precocious toddlers. Laura nodded.

"It helps to have things that feel… normal," she explained, glancing away. "And she does love the twins." Bucky felt a twinge of sympathy at her still-fresh grief. Patting the diaper bag, he deftly steered the conversation away from their recent mutual loss.

"There should be enough diapers in there," he informed her. 'They each have a water bottle, and I packed enough snacks to feed a small army, so hopefully it will be enough to keep them satisfied." Laura chuckled softly,

"I'm sure we'll manage," she assured him.

"Keep a close eye on Brooklyn," he warned her. "She's been running off on me lately. Especially when it's time to leave and she doesn't want to." Laura nodded.

"Nate went through a phase like that," she said ruefully. "So did Gabriele, as a matter of fact. Thanks for the heads up. Good luck at the meeting." Bucky nodded.

"Thanks. I'm not really sure what it's about," he admitted. "We already all had our debriefing on the battle."

"Well, let me know afterwards," Laura requested, then grinned sheepishly. "I mean, if they'll let you. I'm not sure I have the appropriate security clearance." With a half grin, Bucky tossed her a tongue in cheek salute.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, then went to go say goodbye to his children.

* * *

One of the first things he noticed when he arrived at the UN headquarters was that they had taken extra security measures. A van from NY1 was parked outside, and a reporter was arguing with a pair of guards, who did not appear inclined to allow her inside. Bucky showed his identification and endured a search and a DNA scan before he was allowed past the entrance. To his surprise, he was greeted inside by not one, but three men in black suits and sunglasses. One of them gestured for him to follow them. They led him, not to the General Assembly Hall where they usually went on their visits here, but down into the basement, to one of the smaller conference rooms. They paused and gestured him inside, then vanished once he was through the door.

This room was considerably smaller than the one he was used to, but felt even more cramped and crowded. Bucky spotted Steve seated at a table set along one wall, sitting uncomfortably between Tony and Natasha. Name placards were set at each place, and Bucky scanned down them as he went. He found his name between Sam and Dr. Steven Strange. He sat down with a sigh and noticed Fury arriving.

"Nyssa coming?" Sam asked as he settled in next to Bucky. Bucky frowned slightly. He had been so preoccupied with making last-minute arrangements for the twins that he hadn't asked if Nyssa was planning to attend. It seemed unlikely, given that she was in Thailand the last time he checked.

"Dr. Taylor has chosen to abstain from the proceedings," Fury answered, pausing in front of them. Bucky detected a note of irritation in his tone. "She says she doesn't want to be a part of it." Bucky gave him a confused look.

"Does she already know what this is about?" he asked. Fury shrugged.

"Said she figured it out," he replied cryptically.

"What is it about?" Sam asked bluntly. Fury gestured, but before he could reply, they heard the call to begin the meeting. With an "oh-well" gesture, Fury took his seat. The US Ambassador to the UN, Julianne Page, rose to the podium and surveyed all who were gathered there.

"This meeting is now in session," she announced. "As a first order of business, I want to thank the Avengers for coming to meet with us today. I am sure you are all wondering why we asked you here today. Allow me to explain the intent of this meeting." She paused, and surveyed the room. "The intent of this body is primarily diplomatic, but one of our first charges is to maintain worldwide peace and security. In recent years, it has become painfully obvious that we must be aware of threats, not just from each other, but from beyond our planet. After the last attack, which you so skillfully repelled, several of our governments have begun discussing adding military branches that would be better equipped for fighting outside our atmosphere." She paused. "I don't think I need to elaborate on the potentially disastrous results of several different great powers building opposing intergalactic armies." She took a deep breath. "And so, this august assembly has come to the conclusion that the most effective solution to this would be an international peacekeeping force charged with helping to mediate international disputes, attending to crises around the globe, and keeping our planet safe from future extraterrestrial attacks." Bucky exchanged surprised glances with Sam. Ambassador Page paused to allow the astonished murmurs to subside. "That brings me to you, the Avengers," she continued when silence had again fallen. "Most of us have persuaded our governments to commit to this idea already, and we have dedicated funds at our disposal, as well as a wide array of generals and admirals to help us build this first-ever global fighting force. What we lack are veterans. The only people who have successfully fought a space-based battle are… you. And so we are requesting your aid and your knowledge, whether that be simply as a consultant, in an advisory capacity, or – ideally – in training the new recruits and preparing them for the particular hazards they may face in defending our planet against alien threats. With your help, we hope to usher in a new age of a global community united to face a common enemy." Bucky sat back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest as he considered this unexpected request carefully.

The discussion stretched for hours. Tony immediately volunteered to head the R & D team to begin developing weapons and spacecraft that would withstand long voyages and combat in the vacuum of space, and the members present eagerly voted to accept. From there, the discussion stalled. They seemed eager for Bucky, Steve, Sam and James Rhodes – the ones with the most actual military experience – to take leading roles in taking their fledgling concept and turning it into boots on the ground. Or in space, as it were. The fat contracts that were placed in front of them made Bucky's eyes widen. Sam whooped out loud as he perused the salary and compensation section. Steve was more reserved in his reaction, which Bucky understood. He was also torn. Had he still been single, it would have been an easy decision. But this would mean long days away from home, lots of international travel, and occasional trips out into space. He didn't feel comfortable accepting something this potentially life-altering without discussing it with Nyssa first.

* * *

By the time they broke for lunch, very little had been decided. Wanda and Natasha also seemed somewhat hesitant, although they had been offered smaller, more advisory roles. The spread in the cafeteria was better quality than Bucky was expecting, with smells that made his stomach growl and remind him that he had missed breakfast in his haste to get the children out the door. He filled his plate and settled down at the table with the others.

"….could be an incredible opportunity," Sam was arguing. "Shaping a global power, getting in at the ground floor, influencing what the future looks like…."

"It's not often an opportunity like this comes along," Rhodes agreed.

"It's a pretty big commitment, though," Steve pointed out. "Lots of time, lots of travel…"

"Since when do you have an issue with travel?" Tony asked with a derisive snort. Steve raised his eyebrows at him.

"I have a lot more reasons to stay at home now, Tony," he pointed out. "You know how that is." Tony conceded the point with an open-handed gesture.

"I'm lucky R and D is something I can do from home," he agreed. "Or at least, I can dictate where I want to set up shop."

"Considering they need our specific talents, I'm sure you could negotiate something that works for you," Bucky pointed out. "I'm sure they'd rather have a part-time Captain America than none at all."

"Is that what you're planning to do?" Natasha asked. Bucky took a bite of his lunch and chewed contemplatively, then shrugged.

"I haven't decided yet," he replied.

"It would help if they had a definitive timeline," Wanda said thoughtfully. "They are asking for a lot of commitment from us, but it could be in a few months, or in a few years. I don't know how much I want to hold off on the rest of my life."

"I mean, that's not really all that different than being an Avenger," Bruce pointed out. There were chuckles of agreement from around the table.

They reconvened, but the afternoon discussions didn't seem much more productive, stalling out on specifics. Bucky was in a pensive fugue on his way home. There was a lot to process. It felt like he was on the cusp of something major, if it came to fruition, but there were so many variables and possible repercussions to consider. The future was going to look different, that much was certain. The only question was what it would look like, and what his role would be in it.

* * *

As he approached the Barton's apartment, he could hear the joyful shrieks of children playing inside. He knocked, but nobody answered immediately, so he opened the door and went in. In the living room, Brooklyn was standing on top of the sofa, tiara upon her brow and play sword upraised. The cushions were piled on the floor, Grace and Jameson crouching down and looking up at their queen. Bucky shook his head with a half-grin. A loud clang from the kitchen drew his attention, and he went to investigate. He found Laura kneeling on a pile of towels in front of the open cupboard doors below the kitchen sink. Her head and shoulders were inside the cabinet, and he could hear her muttering invective in between clangs of metal against metal.

"Need some help?" he asked. She startled, then withdrew to look up at him with harried exhaustion.

"Possibly," she groaned. She gestured with the pipe wrench in her right hand. "I ran the dishwasher while we were at the aquarium, and when we returned, it was flooding all over the kitchen. This sink has been draining slow. I treated it with Drano last week, but apparently it didn't fix whatever the issue is."

"I can take a look," he offered, holding his hand out for the wrench. With a relieved smile, she handed it over.

"Thanks," she breathed. "I'm about ready to call a plumber, but I don't need a $500 bill."

"I don't mind," Bucky assured her. He glanced down at his attire, remembering he had put on one of his more expensive shirts for meeting with the United Nations. Stripping off the shirt, he laid it carefully on the counter, then got down and crawled under the sink in his undershirt.

* * *

"Daddy, what are you doing?" Brooklyn crawled abruptly into the confined space next to Bucky.

"Trying to fix this pipe," Bucky replied, gesturing to the detached U-joint.

"I help," Brooklyn offered firmly, poking a screwdriver into the end of the open pipe. Bucky chuckled.

"Thanks, Babydoll, but I think I got this."

"Any luck?" Bucky glanced down to see Laura's jean-clad legs standing by the open cupboard door.

"I think I found your issue," he announced. Climbing out, he stood and held up a short section of pipe he had removed from the sink assembly. Holding an open end over the garbage can, he reached in with two fingers and pulled out the clog that had been blocking the pipe. Tangled in with long, dark hairs and scraps of waterlogged food, a dull gleam of metal glinted. Bucky carefully extricated a plain gold band and set it down over the counter. Laura clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide and staring at the ring. Caught off guard by her reaction, Bucky lowered himself back down to reattach the now-clean section. Brooklyn was playing with his abandoned pipe wrench, twisting the nut with her fingers and watching the jaw open and close, tongue caught between her lips. "Can I have those back?" Bucky asked her, holding his hand out for the tool. She shook her head, moving the wrench further out of his reach. Bucky sighed. "Brooklyn Winnifred," he said warningly, reaching for the pipe wrench. With a squeal of protest, she moved it just out of his reach.

"I help, Daddy," she insisted, waving the wrench around. It collided loudly with the underside of the sink.

"Okay," he grudgingly gave in. "We'll both do it. Okay?" She hesitated a moment, then nodded. He slid the pipe into position, then put a hand over his daughter's, guiding her through the motions of tightening the sink assembly back up. It took several minutes longer than he would have working on his own, but after seeing the look of pride on Brooklyn's face as the pipe stayed in place, his impatience and irritation melted away. "And that's it. We did it. Thanks for your help." With a grin, Brooklyn climbed out from under the sink and scampered away. Bucky stood up more slowly. Laura had picked up the ring, cradling it in her palm. Her cheeks were wet, but aside from an odd catch in her breathing, she made no sound. She glanced over at Bucky.

"He lost this the first week we moved in here," she explained, her shaky voice barely above a whisper. "He was putting in a dimmer switch… for the lights over the sink. Since he was handling electrical, he took it off. We didn't even realize it was missing until after dinner. It must've gotten knocked down the… the…" She curled her fingers around the wedding band, pressing her closed fist against her chest. Her face crumpled, and she covered it with her other hand. Her shoulders shook. His gut twisted, and he pulled her closer. She buried her face in his chest, letting him hold her for a long moment. Her hair smelled faintly of ginger and coconut, and he resisted the sudden urge to bury his face in it. After a minute, she pulled away a step, glancing apprehensively towards the living room, where the kids were still playing. "God, I'm sorry," she sighed. "I don't want them to see me like this." Bucky raised his eyebrows at her.

"You don't want them to… see you crying?" He cupped her upper arms comfortingly with both hands. "Letting them see you grieve is healthy. It gives them permission to grieve openly, too." She looked up at him with appreciative surprise. He was somewhat surprised, himself. Every now and again, he opened his mouth and Nyssa came out. He gave Laura what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "You don't always have to be the strong one," he reminded her. At his gentle words, her face crumpled again, and she sagged back against him. He put his arms around her as her body shook with grief. Movement drew his attention, and he saw Lila freeze at the end of the hallway, eyes wide as she stared at them. Before he could call out to her or explain what was going on, she turned around and disappeared back down the hall. Bucky sighed, rubbing Laura's back comfortingly. Pulling back, she sniffled and gave him a bleary smile.

"Do you want to stay for dinner?" she asked. With another sniffle, she wiped tears from her cheeks. "As a thank you. For fixing the sink. You and the twins." Bucky gave her a half-grin.

"I don't mind helping out," he assured her. "I'll do it any time. No repayment necessary."

"You saved me a plumber bill," she reminded him. "Dinner is the least I could do. I insist."

"Well, since you put it that way," Bucky relented. "I accept."

* * *

It was late by the time they arrived back at their apartment. Bucky steered the twins directly to their bedroom. Brooklyn made a beeline for the bed and started bouncing on the lower bunk, holding onto the frame of the upper bunk. Jameson went immediately to Herbert's terrarium to check on his frog.

"Come on, pick out your jammies," Bucky coaxed, opening the appropriate drawer on their dresser. "Or I'll pick for you." Brooklyn jumped down. Crossing to the dresser, she pulled several sets of pajamas out of the drawer and threw them on the floor.

"This one, Daddy!" she announced, holding up a set of purple pajamas with unicorns dancing across them.

"Great!" Bucky said approvingly. "Now, can you put back all the clothes you threw on the floor?"

"No," Brooklyn replied easily. She sat down on the floor and started pulling her socks off. "I hafta put my pajamas on." With a sigh, Bucky rolled his eyes and scooped the nightclothes back into the drawer.

"Jamie," he chided at his son, who was still crouched in front of the terrarium. "Do you want dinosaurs or race cars?" He held up the two options and shook them at his boy.

"Dinosaurs," Jameson decided. Crouching down on the carpet, he hopped like a frog towards his father. "Ribbit! Ribbit!"

"Whoa there, slow down, Kermit," Bucky said with a chuckle, catching Jamie in mid-air as he hopped around the floor. "Let's get your diaper changed and jammies on before you hop in the pond for bed."

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, the twins climbed up on the couch, teeth brushed, faces washed, hair combed. After nearly two weeks, he had finally gotten the hang of braiding Brooklyn's hair before bed, and naturally Jameson had wanted his hair braided, too. Bucky settled in next to them, bedtime stories in hand.

"Okay, which do we want first," he asked, "The Quiltmaker's Gift, Wherever You Are, or I Love You, Stinkyface?"

"Stinkyface!" Brooklyn cheered.

"No, Quiltmaker's Gift!" Jameson decided.

"And who do you want to read it? Mommy or Daddy?" Bucky looked up, startled, as Nyssa's voice came from the doorway. There she stood, Darshan beside her, suitcase in hand. She looked exhausted, but she was smiling.

"Mommy!" the twins chorused, jumping off the couch and launching themselves at her. Jameson wrapped his arms around her legs, while Brooklyn climbed her like a tree, squeezing her neck enthusiastically. Nyssa coughed slightly, but merely dropped her suitcase and folded her daughter into a tight hug.

* * *

For the first evening in a while, Bucky found himself completely unoccupied. He could hear Brooklyn's excited chatter from their room, punctuated every now and then with Jameson's interjections, Nyssa's quiet, calming tone a counterpoint to their babble. Bucky settled onto the couch and turned the television on. Motion drew his attention, and he glanced over to see Darshan approaching. He was limping slightly, and Bucky wondered what must have happened. With a heavy sigh, the dog laid his head in Bucky's lap.

"Did you miss me or something?" Bucky murmured teasingly, stroking the canine's head and neck, scratching behind his ears. With a groan, Darshan climbed up on the couch next to him, settling half in Bucky's lap, cuddling insistently. Bucky chuckled and rubbed the dog's soft coat. "Good thing I have a remote, huh?" he commented to the canine, hefting the device with his other hand. "I don't think you're about to let me off this couch."

* * *

He was halfway through the movie he had selected when he heard the door to the twins' room open. Nyssa's quiet footsteps came down the hall, along with the whisper of her fingers along the wall as she guided herself back to the living room. She paused as she reached the end of the hallway.

"Hello, my love," she greeted him. Despite the shadows of fatigue on her face, she was smiling at him. He grinned back.

"Hey, Doll," he drawled. "Want to come snuggle on the couch and finish watching your fourth all-time favorite movie?"

"Sure," she agreed, her smile broadening. "Just let me change out of these clothes first." She vanished back down the hall. Bucky got up off the couch and followed her. He stopped and leaned against the doorframe of their bedroom, watching as she undressed and changed into a fresh pair of pajamas. He had intended to enjoy the sight of his naked wife, but instead he found himself frowning slightly as concern muted any other intentions. Nyssa had always been slight, but now her ribs and hip bones stood out in sharp relief. Bruises and lacerations in various stages of healing scattered across her back and shoulders before trailing down her legs. She turned as she grabbed her pajama pants, and Bucky raised his eyebrows.

"Is that new ink?" he asked. Across her left hip, two new birds perched. One was a hawk, head turned and eye prominent. The other was a black-feathered bird on fire. Both images looked fresh, the skin around them an angry magenta and shiny with ointment. Nyssa nodded. "I didn't realize you still got memorial tattoos."

"I haven't had a reason to for quite a while," she reminded him. "But it's still part of my process."

"Seems like an awful lot of pain to go through for something you can't see," he observed. She gave him a ghost of a smile and pulled the pajama pants up over her new tattoos.

"The pain is partially the point," she said ruefully. "An important part of the ritual." He didn't comment further as she shrugged into her robe. He offered her his arm as she passed by him on her way back to the living room.

"Shall we?" he asked, his tone humorously formal. With a smile, she looped her arm through his and allowed him to escort her out to the living room. He settled back on the couch, and she climbed up next to him. He put his arm across the back of the couch, and she nestled in closer. Darshan jumped up on her other side, sandwiching her between them as he rested his head at her hip.

"So I think I finally figured it out," Bucky informed her as he hit play to resume the movie. "You are a Jedi, like your father before you." Nyssa let out a surprised giggle.

"Not quite," she said ruefully. "I can't use the Force to make things go flying around, or lift space fighters."

"True," he agreed. "That's more Wanda's speed. But you can do the Jedi mind trick thing. And you can call for help just like Luke called to Leia. And maybe you could move things with your mind, if you tried." Nyssa chuckled again.

"No. There is no try, remember? Just do. Or do not." She smirked as she quoted the movie back to him. "I have tried on a few occasions, without success." She leaned in, tilting her head against his chest. "It's probably better that I'm not actually a Jedi. As I recall, they're not supposed to get married. Allegedly makes it easier for them to fall to the Dark Side."

"Are you saying I'm going to lure you to the Dark Side, Skywalker?" he asked teasingly. She chuckled and raised her eyebrows at him.

"I'm not a Skywalker," she protested with a shake of her head. "I always identified more with Yoda." Bucky snorted.

"Really?" he asked in disbelief. "Yoda?" Nyssa nodded serenely.

"We're both small. People make assumptions because of our appearance," she reflected. "And we both understand that wars don't make one great." She smirked as she quoted, then her lips twitched into a sly grin. "Besides, I always kinda had a thing for Luke. So it would be a little awkward if I was his sister."

"Oh, I dunno," Bucky replied slyly. "Isn't that pretty normal for that family?" He chuckled as she made a noise of indignation.

"Not _knowingly,_ " she replied pointedly. "Now, did you want to watch the movie, or poke it apart?" Her question was punctuated by a yawn. There were many things Bucky wanted to do now that she was home. He badly needed to discuss with her the new opportunity he was being offered. He wanted to share with her things that had happened while she was gone; relate all the funny things the twins had said and done and the mischief they had gotten into. He wanted to tell her about Sam and Izumi's engagement, about how the Barton's were doing, and everything else that had been going on with their friends. He wanted to show her how much he had missed her in the most carnal of ways. For the moment, though, he wanted to hold her and take comfort in the fact that she was once again safe by his side. It had been a long twelve days without her.

"We can just watch the movie," he said with a sigh, bringing his arm down around her and pulling her in closer. He breathed a sigh of contentment, which he felt her echo a moment later. As the credits rolled, he glanced down at her to see that she had fallen fast asleep.

* * *

 **Thanks to karina001 and SomebodyWhoCares for your kind reviews! And thanks to anyone else who might still be reading. Every art form needs an audience!**


	47. Prodromal Symptoms

**Disclaimer: Marvel Characters are property of Marvel. Original Characters are mine. Just for fun, not for profit.**

* * *

 **Prodromal Symptoms**

He was awakened by Darshan's soft whining. Bucky sat up in bed and looked around. Beside him, Brooklyn and Jameson had both crept in and were fast asleep in a nest of wadded-up blankets and tangled limbs. Nyssa was nowhere to be seen. Getting out of bed, Bucky went to investigate. Darshan's quiet whimper drew him to the living room. The dog was sitting inside the door to the balcony, ears at attention as he looked intently at something outside. Bucky padded over to investigate. Nyssa was outside, still dressed in her pajamas, leaning on the balcony railing between the container gardens. The night wind buffeted her already-tousled hair. With a frown, Bucky pushed the sliding door open.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked in confusion and concern. Nyssa straightened up slightly.

"Just trying to clear my head a bit," she replied softly. "Was contemplating doing some yoga."

"The bed is much, much warmer than the balcony," Bucky observed. "And you were exhausted just a couple hours ago." Nyssa nodded, though she still didn't turn her head towards him.

"I still am," she agreed. "But the kids came in, and…" Her voice trailed off, and she half-shrugged. Bucky nodded understanding.

"I've definitely woken up a few nights with a random knee or elbow in my kidneys," he agreed dryly. Nyssa shook her head.

"No, it's not that," she demurred. Bucky raised his eyebrows, but waited. She sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose wearily. "I was more worried that they would stumble into my dreams while I was sleeping. The inside of my head at night has been no place for a child lately."

"Nightmares?" Bucky asked in surprise. Nyssa paused for a long moment, then nodded mutely. Bucky crossed to stand next to her, one arm encircling her shoulders comfortingly. "Want to talk about it?" he asked. She sighed.

"Don't you have to get up early to go meet with the UN?" she recalled. He shook his head.

"Not especially early," he contradicted. "They don't want us there until ten. But I did want a chance to discuss it with you first." She nodded slowly.

"I suppose they're going to want an answer from you," she reflected.

"Or at least, to start some negotiations," he agreed. "Fury said you didn't want anything to do with it." Nyssa looked down at her hands, wrapped around the railing.

"Yes, well," she sighed. "Developing and training a new branch of military isn't exactly my forte."

"How do you know?" Bucky challenged. "I have yet to see you take on any challenge that you couldn't overcome." Now she turned towards him for the first time.

"That's because I choose projects I believe in," she reminded him. "I'm not sure how I feel about this one. The United Nations is supposed to be about diplomacy and nations working together towards common goals. Not about… building a new world order." Bucky snorted.

"I assure you, world domination hasn't been mentioned," he said dryly. "Look, I like the idea of the United Nations. I do. But they are one of the most ineffective governing bodies on the planet. Maybe this will give them some teeth, give them the leverage to finally forge something worthwhile. If it takes an outside threat to get every country on our planet working together, I can't say I'm against that. You don't like the idea of world peace?"

"Capitulation under threat of violence is not the same as peace. And being willing to cooperate against the threat of alien invasion doesn't necessarily mean they are ready to treat all their citizens fairly," Nyssa pointed out. "You can call it whatever you want, but you'll still be training soldiers. Soldiers have a very specific purpose. You can't fight your way to world peace. You can call it world peace, because the major nations aren't at war with each other, but that doesn't mean your forces still can't be used for tyranny or injustice."

"You think I'm not aware of that? That just makes it even more important to be a part of it," Bucky countered. "To make sure safeguards are in place to keep that from happening." Nyssa shook her head, turning her blind gaze out over the city.

"Humans have spent centuries spilling blood all over the planet," she observed. "I guess the logical next step is to spill it across the stars."

"I hate to break it to you, but we already did that part," Bucky retorted. "Besides, what would you expect us to do the next time the Chitauri, or the Vruuxel, or the Skrulls, or the Kree, or some other alien species we haven't discovered yet shows up and wants to take over the planet? Should we just let them have it? Or should the Avengers be expected to take on all comers with no support? We know there is other life out there, and we know it isn't necessarily friendly. It makes sense to have a force that can deal with that. To know what threats are out there and not prepare for them seems naively reckless, at a minimum." Nyssa closed her eyes and gave him a begrudging nod.

"You make some good points," she admitted. "And I know that this is part of who you are. I'm not saying that I'm against you taking part in it. If this is something you truly want to do, I support you. But I don't have any interest in it myself. And I don't want to raise our children on army bases. Or move every six months. Or settle on a spaceship or space station." Bucky snorted.

"I think you might be getting a little ahead of yourself," he noted. "But I will be sure to bring that up in negotiations." If nothing else, discussing it with Nyssa had at least solidified his own positions in his mind. She took a deep breath and turned her face towards him.

"And you know, no matter what you teach the recruits, or how well, people will die because of it." Bucky's expression tightened, his face flushing in anger.

"Are you about to explain to me the harsh realities of war?" he asked her darkly. Regret flashed across her face, but she remained silent, turning away from him. He let out an exasperated breath. "I think I'll head back to bed. At least one of us should get some more sleep before tomorrow." She nodded, but still did not reply. "Are you coming?" he asked bluntly. She shook her head, still silent. He felt like arguing with her, sweeping her up into his arms and carrying her into the bedroom for the second time that night. She was standing with her arms wrapped around her defensively, her walls up tightly, and he suspected any further attempt to get her to come with him would be met with even fiercer resistance. With a sigh, he leaned in for a good-night kiss. Her lips met his softly, almost hesitantly. He returned to bed feeling slightly bemused, still annoyed by their argument. Moving a sleeping Jameson carefully off his pillow, he crawled back under the covers. By the time he fell asleep, Nyssa still had not returned to bed.

* * *

The next morning, Bucky found himself looking at the underside of a sink for the second time in as many days. This time, he was clad only in his pajama pants, as the early morning emergency hadn't left time for getting dressed.

"Can you pull your feet in?" Nyssa's disembodied voice asked. He obediently followed her request, shifting in the tight space inside the cupboard. He felt the air shift as she pushed a mop past his feet, cleaning up the last remnants of the puddle they had found on the floor upon awakening. "Thank you." He grunted in response, straining as he finally coaxed the pipe fitting loose. He was rewarded with a splash of foul water across his face and chest. Muttering profanities under his breath, he wrestled the garbage disposal from its housing and crawled out from under the sink with it. Nyssa brandished the mop at him with a mischievous smirk. "Do I need to get you, too?" she asked. He snorted.

"No, thanks. I plan to shower immediately after this," he commented, getting to work on the screws that held the disposal shut.

"Mmmm," Nyssa responded. He glanced over at her. She was standing still, leaning on the mop, a distracted look on her face. Bucky turned his attention back to his project at hand.

"Are you using our cameras to ogle me again?" he asked, smirking.

"I prefer 'admire,'" Nyssa replied. She paused, coughing, then cleared her throat. "I haven't had many opportunities to, lately. Would you prefer that I not?"

"Think I'd be more concerned if you didn't," Bucky replied, grunting as he finally got the main pieces apart. He fished a doll missing all her hair, half a leg and the entirety of her left arm out of the disposal and regarded it with exasperation. "Brooklyn!" he called. The sounds of playing from the bedroom stopped after a few moments, and Brooklyn came trotting out.

"What, Daddy?" she asked innocently. He held the mangled doll out towards her. She frowned at it.

"This is what happens when you put your doll down the garbage disposal and turn it on," he explained. "That's why you don't put your hand down there."

"Awww," Brooklyn pouted, taking the battered Barbie from him. "Can I get a new one?" Bucky shook his head.

"Not today," he admonished. Her face crumpled.

"But it was my faaaavorite!" she wailed. Bucky frowned at her in consternation.

"I'd hate to see how you treated one you didn't care about," he commented dryly. Brooklyn howled louder. Nyssa scooped her up.

"That's really upsetting, isn't it?" she consoled. "Maybe we can put one on your list for your next birthday or Christmas." Brooklyn only wailed louder. "I know, that's really far away and it's so, so hard to wait." Brooklyn turned her face into Nyssa's shoulder and sobbed. Bucky grimaced slightly. Nyssa shook her head at him. "She just needs a minute." He heaved a sigh.

"Well, that disposal is fubar," he announced. "We are going to have to get a new one."

"Or we can just put pipes in," Nyssa suggested. "With that new food recycler unit Tony installed, we don't really need a disposal anymore." Bucky shrugged.

"Either way, I have to get more parts before I can do anything. So, the sink is out of commission for the morning. Can we manage without it?" Nyssa thought for a moment, then nodded. "Great. Then I'm going to go shower."

* * *

Nyssa managed to suppress the coughing fit she felt coming on just long enough to finish flipping the pancakes on the griddle pan. Turning away from the food, she covered her mouth as she coughed so hard her ribs hurt. She took a few moments to wash her hands in the bathroom and catch her breath before she returned to making breakfast. She paused at the sink for a moment, but then remembered it was out of commission. With a sigh, she grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge instead and calmed the irritation in her throat with a swig. She was no stranger to illness, particularly after a trip. She had gotten all the recommended immunizations and boosters before leaving on her little world tour, and her doctor had started her on an antibiotic at the first sign of a sniffle after her return. It was still taking her longer than she expected to recover. Returning to the stove, she rescued the pancakes before they burned, then turned the sizzling sausages before pouring a new set of pancakes to cook.

"Mommy, Brooklyn dropped her shoe on Herbert," Jameson announced from behind her. She half-turned and found the frog abruptly thrust in her face. "Can you kiss him and make it better?" Nyssa straightened, leaning slightly backwards as her son attempted to press his pet against her mouth.

"I suppose," she quipped, brushing her lips gingerly against the slippery skin. "I thought I was done with the kissing frogs phase of my life."

"Thanks, Mommy." Jameson cradled the amphibian to his chest. "He feels better now."

"Ooh, sausage!" Brooklyn squealed from behind them. The stepstool scraped across the kitchen floor.

"Brooklyn, stop!" Nyssa turned back around just as Brooklyn scooped a sausage link out of the pan with her bare hand. A moment later, she dropped it, screaming. "Oh, honey!" Nyssa grabbed her from the stepstool and carried her over to the sink. Grabbing the bottle of water, she dumped the contents over her daughter's burned hand. Brooklyn shrieked and pulled her hand away. Jameson pulled on her shirt, starting to cry as he picked up on his sister's distress. Darshan whined, dancing in a circle around the distressed family.

"Mommy, what happen?" he asked worriedly.

"Yeah, what happened?" Bucky demanded from the doorway, still wet from the shower, towel draped around his waist.

"Brooklyn burned herself," Nyssa explained brusquely, trying to get her daughter to hold her hand open so she could wash the hot grease off. The girl shrieked and fought; her fist clenched to her chest. "Can you help? She's too strong for me. We need to run it under cool water."

"Bathroom," Bucky instructed. Nodding, Nyssa followed him back to the bathroom. Bucky pried the girl's hand open, holding her fingers under the cool running water. After a few minutes, her cries subsided to sniffles.

"How did she manage to get burned, anyway?" he asked gruffly. "I thought with the cameras installed, you can see everything."

"I did see everything," Nyssa replied grimly. "She was just too fast for me. I watched her scoop that sausage right out of the pan." She shook her head. "Brooklyn, honey, you know you can't just grab hot food out of a pan with your bare hands. It's not safe."

"Daddy does it," Brooklyn replied, the statement punctuated with a sniffle. Bucky winced and sighed.

"When you have a high-tech metal arm that senses temperature, then you can touch hot things on the stove with it," he explained to her. "But I never use my flesh hand to do that." Turning the water off, he inspected the diminutive hand in his. The skin on her hand was angry red, already swelling, with blisters forming on two fingers and at the center of her palm.

"I'll call Marquis and see if he's okay with the rest of the kids on his own so I can take her in," Nyssa decided.

"I can let Fury know I can't make it to negotiations today," Bucky offered. Nyssa gave him a sardonic look.

"You mean, reschedule your negotiation session with the United Nations?" she rephrased glibly, then shook her head. "If you want to drive, we can probably make it to urgent care right as it opens. We might even make it back before you have to leave. If it takes too long, you can go directly to your meeting and we'll take the subway back. Or a taxi. Either way…" Nyssa was suddenly cut off by the screech of a smoke detector. Bucky abruptly recalled the breakfast left forgotten and cooking on the stove. Jameson appeared in the bathroom, dripping wet.

"It's waining in the kitchen," he announced. Herbert croaked happily.

* * *

Two hours later, Bucky dropped his wife off at the entrance to Avenger's Tower with a now-dry Jameson and freshly bandaged Brooklyn. Nyssa leaned in his driver's side window for a kiss before he left, feeling drained even though the day had barely started.

"Woy, everyone okay?" Marquis boomed as they joined the other children in the virtual forest in the VRR. Brooklyn scampered up to him and waved her white-swathed hand.

"I burned my hand, Marquis!" she announced, a note of pride in her voice.

"Aye-yuh-yie, gyul, whad' yuh go an' do that fo'?" Marquis groaned. Brooklyn giggled.

"I didn't do it on purpose," she insisted. "I was trying to help Mommy make breakfast." Marquis raised his eyebrows at her explanation.

"It's been a morning," Nyssa contributed, coming up behind her daughter. Jameson had already found a hollowed-out tree to explore. "I tried to talk the nurse at urgent care into getting me a coffee IV, but she wouldn't do it." Marquis chuckled. Nyssa crouched down to eye level with Brooklyn. "Be careful with that hand, okay? It's going to be sore, so try not to use it. No throwing things, no climbing with it, no practicing cartwheels until it's better, okay?"

"Aww," Brooklyn pouted, but Nyssa shook her head at her.

"If you want that hand to heal, you'll need to take it easy," she reminded her. "And if anything you're doing hurts, stop doing it, okay?"

"Okay, Mommy," Brooklyn sighed.

"Now go play," she encouraged the girl. Brooklyn ran off, waving her bandaged hand at Pietra. Nyssa glanced around at the forest setting, taking note of where each child was and what they were doing. Laila had found a perfect climbing tree, and was scaling the lower branches, her wings fluttering with effort. Saoirse was playing with a pile of pine cones she had found and lined up in a neat row. Brooklyn joined Pietra in stacking some long branches against a tree, constructing a little fort. Jarek was digging in the soft dirt along the creek. Jameson was exploring a small copse of bushes, watching a tiny caterpillar inch along one of the branches. On the other side of the trees, Aaron was lying on his back, staring up at the lacy patterns of dark branches against the bright blue sky. For the moment, at least, everyone seemed content to play on their own in the simulated forest.

"This is nice," she commented to Marquis. "Did you design this?" He shook his head.

"One of the presets," he contradicted. "If I were going to design one, it would be a little more… tropical." Nyssa's expression brightened.

"Oh, you should!" she encouraged. "I would love to see where you grew up."

"I dunno," Marquis sighed. "It might make me miss it too much."

"How long has it been since you've been home?" Nyssa asked astutely. For a moment, Marquis was silent, staring down at one of his hands.

"Not since I was a weedy teen," he admitted after a lengthy moment.

"That's a long time," Nyssa observed. "Do you still keep in touch with your family?" Marquis shook his head. He folded both sets of arms over his torso, looking down at the grass beneath their feet. Nyssa could tell he was wrestling with some deeply rooted guilt and trauma. She waited, not wanting to pry into anything he didn't want to share. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "You don't need to discuss them if you don't want to." He sighed.

"I had a twin brother," he said, his gentle baritone barely above a whisper. "Malik. He was seventeen minutes younger than me. We used to get into all kinds of trouble together, but sometimes we were responsible, too. The summer we both turned sixteen, we would take our boat out, catch fish and sell them at the market. One day…" Nyssa tensed, holding up a hand, and he stopped his narrative abruptly.

"I want to hear your story," she assured him, "but I need to check on the children." Marquis nodded, immediately scanning the scenery around them. There were raised voices coming from inside a ring of bushes.

"No, Aaron, I was in here first!" Jameson's voice protested. The wordless shriek in reply definitely came from Aaron, followed by the sound of a hand making contact with flesh. Nyssa reached the edge of the bushes just as Jameson howled in pain and protest. "Aa-ron, leave me alone!" The bushes rustled as Brooklyn charged through, moving in a blur. Branches scratched at Nyssa's skin as she pushed through the bushes, emerging on the other side just in time to see Brooklyn's fist connect with Aaron's face. The boy fell to the ground with a scream, covering his face. Brooklyn stood over him, arms bent and fists ready.

"Leave my brother alone!" she yelled. Jameson was crouched at the base of the bushes to their left, one hand pressed to his cheek, eyes wide in shock and brimming with tears. Aaron's scream became a keening, and he started to rock in place. Nyssa stepped in between the three children.

"Friday, end program," she said quietly. The trees, bushes and grass vanished, leaving the human occupants alone in an empty room. Jarek howled a protest as his holes disappeared. Laila flapped her wings frantically as her perch disappeared, her face frantic concentration. After a moment, her expression became giddy delight as she realized she was flying. Well, fluttering, anyway. Pietra folded her arms over her chest, hovering in mid-air, looking on disapprovingly. Nyssa crouched down, and Jameson practically jumped on her, throwing his arms around her neck. She curved a protective arm around him. "What happened here?"

"Aaron just came crashing in and almost knocked Jamie over!" Brooklyn exclaimed, waving her arms emphatically. "Then Jamie stood up to get Aaron to leave, and Aaron smacked Jamie in the face! I just came to defend Jamie!" Nyssa sighed.

"All right," she said decisively. "I think it's time to go back upstairs and have a snack."

* * *

By the time they got everyone calmed down, gathered everyone together and managed to herd them back upstairs, it was time for lunch. Aaron's eye was already swelling and darkening. Nyssa sent a diplomatically worded update to Tony and Pepper as the children ate their macaroni and cheese with carrots and hummus. After lunch, they were back to their usual routine of a story before lying down on their mats to get some rest. Nyssa returned to where Marquis was cleaning up all the dishes and toys.

"They're all sleeping," she remarked in surprise. "Finally, something actually went right today." Marquis grinned at her and nodded. She poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down at the counter with it. "So, we should have a few minutes before somebody wakes up." She took a sip of the hot, refreshing beverage, savoring the taste and the warmth. Her enjoyment was interrupted by another coughing fit. She could feel Marquis' concerned eyes on her as the coughing racked her slight frame. After it subsided, she took another long sip of her coffee, willing the hot liquid to tame her sore and itchy throat. "I'm sorry we got interrupted earlier," she finally said, her voice slightly rough. "I really wanted to hear what you had to say. If you'd still like to tell me about your brother, I would love to hear it." Marquis took a deep breath and sat down in the other seat at the counter.

"Where was I?" he murmured reflectively. "Ah, yes. Fishing." He nodded, as if to himself, and spread his hands. "One Saturday, we took the boat out. We were not having much luck with the fish at first, but then we found a school of them and were pulling them out one after another." He moved his arms illustratively. "Suddenly, a storm roll in, clouds turned the sky dark, waves higher than our heads. We couldn't see the island, or anything to give us our bearings. All we could do was ride it out and hope we survived. Next morning, there was no sign of any land on the horizon. We were lost at sea. All our fish gone." He shook his head. "We drifted on de open water for three days. We started to think maybe we die out there. But then came a boat. It was a big boat, with writing in a language we didn't know. They took us on board, gave us food, clothes. We thought we were saved. But it got much worse from there. Something in the food made us very sick. When I woke up the next morning, we were both chained in the hold belowdecks." He paused, rubbing his two lower sets of hands along his thighs. "I don't like to think much about that time. They… did things to us. Experiments. Painful things. Made me very sick. Malik got sick, too, and so weak. Got so he could barely move. They came and took me, knocked me out. When I woke up again, I was like this, all obzokee." He gestured with all four of his arms. "I didn't see Malik again. At first, I didn't know what happened, or want to admit it. Then I noticed this scar right here." He pointed to a two-inch blemish on his lower left forearm. "When we were little, we were running away from Tanty Cece after swiping some toolum. Jumped through a window, and Malik got hung up on a nail. Sliced his arm right open. Once I saw dat, I knew." Marquis' broad shoulders sagged. "So you see, Boss, why I can't go back to Trinidad. Why I can't face Mooma wearing… my dead brother's arms." Nyssa shook her head slowly, reaching out to put a comforting hand on his arm.

"Marquis, that's terrible. I can't even imagine how hard that must have been to go through. I'm so sorry they did that to you," she said. Marquis leaned forward, running one hand down his face.

"They wanted to train me to fight," he reflected softly, "but I've never been much for combat. I'm a lover, not a fighter. And I wasn't about to fight for them. I don't know how it would have ended if I wasn't rescued and brought to _Sanctuary_."

"I am very glad you were," Nyssa declared. "You are a good man, and a valuable employee. I couldn't have hired anyone better." He glanced at her, surprise and warmth tempering the grief and despondency in his presence. "What they did to you, that wasn't your fault. What they did to your brother isn't, either. Speaking as a mother, if it had been my children…." She glanced towards the room where they were sleeping, hesitating as she contemplated the horror of what he had been through. "If one of them had survived, I would want to know. If my child was still alive, no matter in what condition, I would want to be there for him. I don't think your Mooma would be as disappointed in you as you fear." Marquis chuckled softly, though there was mostly sadness in his mien.

"She would have liked you," he remarked.

"Well, I already like her," Nyssa announced. "She must be an amazing woman, to raise such a wonderful son." Marquis shifted, touched by her words, but before he could respond, Saoirse toddled out from the napping room, rubbing her eyes and sniffling. Nyssa jumped up. "Oh, honey, did you have a bad dream?" Saoirse nodded, her face crumpling as she let out a wail. Nyssa scooped her up into her arms. "That was scary, huh?" With a sob, Saoirse snuggled into her.

* * *

"Captain Barnes, do you have a minute?" Bucky turned from his lunch, bemused by the impromptu promotion, to see a thin man with dark hair and glasses standing solicitously behind him. "I'm Eric Feinberg, of Valkyrie Arms." Bucky raised his eyebrows at him.

"I was not aware there were arms dealers present at this stage of negotiations," he remarked. They had been in discussions all morning, but Bucky felt somewhat frustrated at the lack of progress. At this rate, it would be weeks before they had all their contracts settled. Eric smiled broadly.

"My employers feel it most prudent to get in at the ground floor on these things," he replied expansively. "They are also interested in retaining your services."

"My services?" Bucky repeated. "In what capacity?" Eric gestured broadly.

"With your reputation, having your endorsement on our products would increase our market share by a significant percent," he explained. "If you would be willing to participate in our advertising campaign, we would make it well worth your time." Bucky regarded him skeptically.

"I haven't used many Valkyrie… products," he noted. "How worth my time are we talking about?" Eric handed him a paper. Bucky took it and scanned through the proposal. His eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline at the sum offered.

"Okay, I'm listening," he said.

* * *

"Pietra, your mom is here," Nyssa called. A moment later, the door opened and Wanda and Natasha both entered. Nyssa smiled at Natasha. "Nat, what brings you here?" She had barely finished the sentence when she was interrupted by another coughing fit. Natasha eyed her worriedly.

"Are you all right?" she asked. Nyssa nodded through her coughing.

"It's just traveling crud," she explained breathlessly as she was finally able to catch her breath. "My doctor has me on antibiotics already. I expect it will be better in another couple days." Natasha and Wanda exchanged a look. "Anyway, how can I help you?"

"Well, you've already run nonprofits," Wanda mentioned. "Nat and I were talking about wanting to do something to honor Clint." She glanced over at Natasha, who frowned thoughtfully.

"Clint had a way of finding people who needed a second chance and taking them under his wing," Nat reflected. "We thought that opening a home for children with abilities, or wayward youth… kids who just haven't had a fair shake and need a place to belong, or some extra support, might be a good way to honor him." Nyssa nodded slowly.

"That does sound like something he would appreciate," she agreed. "It would be quite the undertaking, though. Have you determined where you want to establish it? Do you know the pertinent local laws? Have you filed any paperwork yet?" Wanda shook her head.

"It's still just an idea," she admitted. "We were hoping maybe you could help us with some of that."

"I would be happy to," Nyssa replied with a smile. "Are you planning on staying in New York?" Natasha shrugged.

"We're open to suggestions," she conceded.

"Great," Nyssa declared. "I happen to know about a property in Connecticut that is going to be auctioned off for well below value in a couple weeks, if you're interested." Natasha brightened with interest.

"We'd love more information," she said. "What…" she trailed off as Marquis came into the room, Pietra's hand clasped in one of his. "Oh, hello."

"Hello," Marquis responded, flashing her a broad grin. "Pietra has some art to show you, Wanda." Wanda's eyes brightened with interest as she crouched down to greet her daughter.

* * *

Bucky was unexpectedly exhausted by the time he got home, but Brooklyn and Jameson both swarmed him as soon as he walked through the door. Nyssa was moving at about half of her normal speed, and there was a pre-packaged lasagna baking in the oven. As soon as the twins let him go and bounded off, he crossed the room to his wife, attempting to go in for a kiss. She pushed him away, confusing him for a moment until she dissolved into another coughing fit, grabbing onto the counter to keep herself upright as her body shook. Bucky frowned at her, keeping an arm around her for support.

"At what point do you go in?" he inquired archly. She shook her head.

"Haven't we been to the doctor enough today?" she asked lightly, then stifled another cough. "I don't have time to be sick right now."

"I'm not sure you're going to get a choice about that," Bucky replied sternly. "Why don't you lay down until supper is ready?"

"Brooklyn's due for her dressing change," Nyssa argued.

"I think I can handle that," Bucky replied dryly. He pointed in the direction of the bedroom. "Go rest." Nyssa looked like she was about to argue again, but she was derailed by another coughing episode. Nodding contritely, she moved down the hall and disappeared into their bedroom. Bucky watched the doorway to make sure she wasn't about to reemerge, then went to find his daughter. He followed the sound of arguing from the kids' bedroom.

"Brooklyn, stoooooooop!" Jameson whined, setting Bucky's teeth on edge.

"Hey, hey, what's going on?" he asked, leaning in the door.

"Daddy, I wanna play with the magnetic animals, but Jamie isn't letting me!" Brooklyn declared. "Jamie, let me have a turn!"

"Jameson, you can have a few more minutes while I change Brooklyn's dressing, but then she needs to have a turn, too. Brooklyn, come here and let me look at your hand," Bucky requested. Brooklyn reluctantly came over to him, holding out her bandaged hand. He slowly unwound the dressing, bracing himself for the sight of her injuries. Instead of red, angry flesh, he found an unmarred stretch of new, pink flesh. Her hand appeared to be completely healed. With a soft chuckle, Bucky shook his head. "Three cheers for accelerated healing factor," he commented. "I don't think you need another bandage on this, Babydoll."

"Can I get a bandaid?" Brooklyn asked hopefully. Bucky frowned.

"You don't really need…"

"Pleeeeeeeease?" she begged. Bucky sighed.

"Well, all right," he relented. "Do you want unicorns or PAW Patrol?"

* * *

 **Thanks to my dear, lovely readers for keeping up with this story! We're building towards the major climax and I'm hoping it's worth the wait! Especially thanks to Qweb, karina001 and SomebodyWhoCares for reviewing. Feedback is always appreciated!**


	48. Psychosomatic

**Disclaimer: Marvel Characters are property of Marvel. Original Characters are mine. Just for fun, not for profit.**

* * *

 **Psychosomatic**

"I know you hate pants. I hate pants, too. But sometimes we have to wear them, and when people are coming over to your house is one of those times," Bucky explained exasperatedly. It was entirely too early in the morning to be having this discussion. Brooklyn crossed her arms over her chest and frowned furiously at her father.

"But people are always coming over," she pointed out. "Why can't I just be naked?" Bucky sighed.

"Because, you just… can't," he replied. "How about your helicopter dress?" Brooklyn set her jaw and shook her head. Bucky sighed.

"You can have ten more minutes to be naked," he warned her. "But once I'm done getting your brother dressed, it's your turn." Brooklyn made a "humph" noise and jumped off the top of the dresser. Bucky grabbed a shirt and pants out of Jameson's side and went into the living room. His son was sitting on the couch, watching a nature program on the television with Herbert sitting on his lap.

"Come on, buddy, let's get ready for the day," Bucky encouraged. Jameson let Bucky pull his pajama shirt over his head, leaning to the side to see around him to the television screen. Bucky deftly popped the shirt over Jameson's head and guided the boy's arms through the sleeves.

"Where's Mommy?" Jameson asked distractedly.

"I think she's not feeling so well, so we're letting her get as much rest as she can before she has to be up with you and all of your friends," Bucky informed him. It was very unlike Nyssa to sleep so late, especially when she had daycare children expected to arrive. Bucky was due to be downtown in less than half an hour, so he was cutting it closer than he liked, but Nyssa had developed a worrisome wheeze overnight.

"Ta-dah!" Bucky turned to see Brooklyn flouncing into the room, twirling to show off the helicopter dress she was now clad in. Bucky grinned at her.

"Well, look at you," he commented. "You got dressed all by yourself."

"Uh-huh." Brooklyn did a cartwheel into the couch. "I did it myself."

"Great, honey." There was a knock at the door. Bucky swore under his breath. The other children were starting to arrive, earlier than expected. He was somewhat relieved to open the door and see Steve standing there with Saoirse in his arms. "Hey, come on in. The kids are dressed, at least." Steve obediently stepped through the door. He glanced around with a frown.

"Isn't Nyssa here?" he asked in confusion. Bucky grimaced.

"Yeah. I'll go wake her up," he muttered, pacing back towards the bedroom. She was buried under the quilt, the only sign she was there an intermittent muffled wheeze. Darshan, who normally was not allowed on the bed, was curled up on the pillow near her head. He whined softly as Bucky drew near. Bucky pulled back the covers. Beneath them, Nyssa was pale, flushed and sweating, her hair stuck in damp ringlets to her face. Bucky cupped her face in his hands, brushing the tips of his fingers across her temple. He registered with shock that her temperature was nearly a hundred and four degrees. "Nyssa." She stirred, blinking open unfocused, fever-bright eyes. Confusion flickered across her face at first.

"Mmm? Wha's going on?" she mumbled, interrupted by a short burst of harsh coughing.

"I was going to wake you up because I have to leave soon and the kids are here," Bucky informed her as she settled down, her coughing subsiding into gasping wheezes. "But I think my plans just changed. I'm taking you to the hospital."

"I'm not that sick," she protested breathlessly. "I just need a few minutes… to get myself going." Steve appeared in the doorway.

"Everything okay?" he asked, a concerned wrinkle creasing between his eyebrows. Bucky shook his head.

"Tell Fury I'm not going to be in today," he requested of his friend. Steve nodded, regarding Nyssa with alarm. Bucky rubbed his wife's upper arm. "If you want to put on some clothes or a robe or something, do that now. We're leaving for the hospital as soon as I get the kids situation figured out." Bucky stood up and crossed the room to where Steve was still lingering in the doorway.

"Is she okay?" he asked worriedly. Bucky paused.

"Remember that winter you got double pneumonia and almost died?" he asked carefully. Steve's eyes widened.

"I mean, barely," he admitted. He glanced over at Nyssa, who had moved to the edge of the bed and paused to catch her breath.

"I'm sure it's… not that bad," Nyssa panted dryly. "They probably just need to switch my antibiotic. We'll go in, they'll give me something new, we'll be back in time for you to go to the afternoon session of negotiations." Bucky shook his head. He didn't think they would just be sent home, but even if they did, he wasn't about to leave her alone in this condition. "Don't be so dramatic, Steve. This is not my deathbed," Nyssa continued, giving Bucky pause. Despite her abilities, she usually tried not to eavesdrop on others' internal dialogue, and she certainly never responded to it in such one-sided conversation. He had seen her ill and out of her head only once before. "This is nothing like Wakanda, you're being ridiculous. I'm not hallucinating, I'm not remotely out of touch with reality…." He and Steve were both staring at her now. Nyssa stood slowly, weaving slightly at the foot of the bed. "Wait, wait. Neither… neither one of you said anything out loud, did you?"

"Nope," Bucky confirmed. Nyssa sagged back down on the bed.

"Shit," she breathed softly. "So… I am really that sick."

"Yep," Bucky confirmed grimly. "So wait here while I check on the kids. Then we're going." He made his way back out to the living room, where he found that Marquis had arrived. The four-armed man was sitting on the couch, listening with an amused smile as Brooklyn regaled him with a very animated story. Bucky paused, waiting until his daughter stopped to take a breath.

"You're on your own today, Marquis," he informed the other man quickly, before Brooklyn could resume her tale. "I'm taking Nyssa to the hospital." Marquis frowned.

"Is everything okay?" he asked. Bucky shrugged, trying to seem more casual than he felt.

"That's what we're hoping the doctors will tell us," he quipped, then went to go gather Nyssa.

* * *

The ride to the hospital was quiet, giving Bucky plenty of time and space to worry and go over disaster scenarios in his head. Nyssa had managed to throw on pants and a thick sweater, but was still shivering in the mild morning air. Her breathing was rapid and shallow, with a rhythmic wheeze. She slumped miserably in the seat, leaning back limply with her eyes closed. At first glance, she appeared to be asleep, but Bucky heard quiet moans coming from her as the car went over bumps or around corners. Even at this early hour, traffic was heavy, and Bucky was beginning to wonder if he should have called an ambulance instead of driving her himself. The car hit a pothole and jolted both of them. A louder moan came from the passenger seat.

"You weren't feeling this bad last night," Bucky observed, though there was a question hanging in the air between them. Nyssa shook her head, keeping her eyes closed.

"Last night, it was still just a cough," she whispered hoarsely. "Maybe a little… tightness in my chest. Now, it hurts to breathe, and I can't… can't catch my breath." Bucky glanced over at her, but forced himself to return his attention to the road and the other drivers.

They finally reached the hospital, but the emergency department was crowded. Nyssa was moving slowly, weakly. Bucky scooped her up into his arms and carried her towards the triage station. A harried-looking nurse took Nyssa's vital signs. As soon as she heard Nyssa's cough, she handed her a mask, which Nyssa obediently donned.

"Any travel out of the country in the past month?" the woman asked. Nyssa let out a short bark of laughter that quickly devolved into a coughing fit.

"Yes," she finally managed as the coughing subsided. The nurse raised her eyebrows at her.

"Any travel to India, Japan, China, Myanmar, New Zealand, Thailand, Chile or Venezuela?" she asked. Nyssa nodded, not trying to speak again. Bucky had heard all those countries mentioned in the news lately, with local epidemics popping up, new viruses that had epidemiologists baffled. "Which one?" The corners of Nyssa's eyes crinkled behind the mask.

"All of them," she replied.

* * *

Once the nurse checked Nyssa's vital signs, things started to happen more quickly. They covered her face with an oxygen mask, and they were shown back to a room. This one had walls, not just curtains, and was surprisingly quiet given the level of chaos in the rest of the department. Nyssa curled up on her side in the cart, closing her eyes. Bucky pulled a chair up beside her, his hand creeping under the thin sheet to hold hers. He felt her fingers close around his in response.

"If this is something I brought back with me, you'll need to have the kids tested, too," she whispered. Her voice was barely audible behind the oxygen mask, but he could still hear the guilt in it. He nodded.

"It'll be okay," he said reassuringly, rubbing her shoulder. She heaved a sigh.

"I would believe that if you did," she said ruefully. He responded with a comforting squeeze of her hand. Before he could come up with a good response, they came in to draw blood. It was somewhat disconcerting to watch the pile of tubes filled with her blood mount ever higher on the technician's cart.

"What are they testing for?" he asked curiously. The phlebotomist checked her list.

"Basic metabolic panel, liver enzymes, lactate, complete blood count with differential… and a bunch that I'm not super familiar with," she admitted. "I just draw the blood, I don't interpret the results." Bucky nodded thoughtfully.

"Probably screening for exotic diseases," Nyssa rasped, her speech drowsy and slightly slurred. Her eyes were still open, but looking slightly glazed.

* * *

Five hours later, Bucky felt like they were no closer to answers, but Nyssa would be admitted. She had tested positive for three of the viruses, though the doctor didn't seem to believe that was actually possible, suggesting that one or more of them may be a false positive. Bucky drove home with a mission from the doctor – to bring all the people she had been around since her return to a clinic to be screened for the same diseases. He sent a group text off to the Avengers, informing them of their likely exposure. They were adults, so they could take care of themselves. Letters would go home with the children, informing their parents of the possible exposure. Bucky had already made an appointment with their pediatrician to have Brooklyn and Jameson screened. They weren't excited about the impromptu trip to the doctor, but their tests thankfully came back negative. Bucky's was positive, but he hadn't experienced any symptoms thus far, so they let him go home with a list of things to watch out for and instructions to call immediately if he noticed any of them.

* * *

Elijah came over the next morning to watch the twins, and Bucky headed back to the hospital. This time, Nyssa was in a room on the third floor. A metal cart stocked with protective gear was stationed outside. Bucky paused, watching as the nurse donned a gown, gloves, respirator and face mask before going into the room that contained his wife. He glanced at the cart as he hesitated outside her door, considering whether to gear up himself. He dismissed the notion after a moment. He had already been exposed; his fate, whatever it was to be, was sealed. He went through both sets of doors leading into her hospital room. The nurse exited as he entered, hurriedly closing the door behind her before taking off her protective gear.

Inside the room, Nyssa was huddled in a tiny ball of misery in the bed, eyes closed. Her face was still engulfed by the oxygen mask, obscuring her petite features. An IV pole with three pumps on it stood beside her, pumping fluids and medicine into her frail form. A tray of food perched on the tray table by the side of the bed. Bucky investigated and found it was cold and untouched. He frowned. He seated himself by Nyssa's bedside. She appeared to be asleep, but he wasn't entirely convinced.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, quietly enough that it wouldn't wake her if she were sleeping.

"Like patient zero in the zombie apocalypse," she replied, her voice a hoarse whisper. "Not sure what hurts the worst, my chest, my back, my head, the nurses' fear, or knowing that I've exposed everyone I care about." Her voice cracked, and she made a noise akin to a sob, but began coughing, shielding her face from him in the pillow. The numbers on the monitor on the wall began dropping, marked by an alarming beep. He waited until her fit subsided. She took a deep, shaky breath, and a few moments later, the beeping stopped.

"If it's any consolation, nobody else has any symptoms," he pointed out.

"Yet," Nyssa countered raggedly. He sighed.

"You just concentrate on getting what you need so you can fight this," he rebuked. "Don't worry about the rest of it. The sooner you get well, the sooner you can come home." Nyssa nodded; her response interrupted by more coughing.

"The doctor says it will be a week at least," she wheezed. "Maybe longer." She moaned, shaking her head on the pillow. "I hate hospitals."

"I suppose you've spent more than your fair share of time in them," he reflected. Her head moved in a slight nod.

"There is that, too," she agreed. "Also, it's the highest concentration of misery, suffering and death in the city, all gathered into one building. And right now, I don't have the strength to keep it out." Bucky considered this for a moment.

"Just being in New York City must be challenging for you," he observed.

"Some days are harder than others," she acknowledged grudgingly. He frowned slightly.

"So why would you want to live here?" he asked. "Wouldn't it be easier to live somewhere the people are a little more… spread out?"

"Easier, yeah," she admitted. "But this is where I'm needed."

"Where others needed you, needed your help," Bucky rephrased. She nodded, an almost imperceptible movement of her head. "What about what you need?" He sighed and shook his head. "You don't give yourself much time or space to recharge, but you probably need more than most." She didn't respond, but he followed his train of thought a little longer. "Maybe we need to move. Get out of the city, find someplace with more space, fewer people… somewhere you can decompress and let your walls down without being flooded by the thoughts and feelings of a million people." Nyssa turned her face towards him, frowning.

"But… New York City is your home," she protested. "I couldn't ask you to leave it, when you're finally back after so many years." He leaned closer to her, reaching out to stroke her cheek.

"My home," he emphasized, "is wherever you are. I can always come back for visits." He sat back in the chair. "To tell the truth, it might be nice to have a little more space. Once you're better and can come home, we can see what's out there." He refused to contemplate any other outcome than that she would be coming home.

"You really want to move to the middle of nowhere?" she countered. He shrugged good-humoredly.

"I mean, we could discuss the edge of nowhere," he said with a smirk. Under her oxygen mask, she smiled.

"That might be nice," she sighed. "Miles of green space, being able to… finally relax. Just you, me and the kids." One corner of her mouth quirked upwards. "Sounds like heaven." Her head tilted to the side. "But would that mean you wouldn't be working with the United Nations anymore? It would be hard to train new recruits for planetary defense from the middle of nowhere." Bucky contemplated this for a moment.

"You let me worry about that part," he replied, attempting to be reassuring. "Nothing is settled yet, but I'm sure I can work something out." She sighed and closed her eyes.

"So, you're going to be off training the next generation of soldiers the most efficient ways to kill aliens. Meanwhile, I'm stuck at home, being… useless," she observed. He scoffed disbelievingly.

"You consider raising our children useless?" he said hotly, choosing to ignore the dig about killing aliens, though he bristled at her tone. He was usually willing to give her the benefit of the doubt, and especially now when she wasn't feeling well. But she seemed to be pushing all his buttons today.

"Hardly," she returned. "But most of our society does. Especially compared to what I used to do. My trip reminded me how much I've been missing it. But then it landed me here, so…." Her voice caught, and she started coughing again. Her thin frame shook with the assault of her illness.

"What would you have me do?" he asked, trying to keep the irritation out of his tone, though he knew she would be aware of it anyway. She sighed.

"I don't know," she admitted. Eyes closed, she lay still in the bed for so long Bucky started to think she had fallen asleep. The monitor beeped intermittently. She coughed, then moaned. "I just am… so weary of war. Of death." She gestured weakly. "I've been in combat situations before, you know that. But the Vruuxel Invasion was my first full-scale battle. And I don't know if I was prepared for the reality of it…"

"Nobody's ever really prepared for it," he interrupted, shaking his head. "You can't be." She nodded agreement.

"Because of… what my job was, during the battle," she continued, "I had to keep track of everyone and what was going on. I couldn't block anything out. I felt… everything. Every injury, every fear, every moment of terror… every death. Ours… and theirs." Tears trickled from her eyes and disappeared under the oxygen mask. Bucky's eyes widened. The situation had been terrifying enough limited to his own experience. He couldn't imagine the magnitude of what she had gone through. He slipped his hand into hers, and she clenched her fingers around his as if he were a life preserver. He was caught off guard by a wave of guilt, grief, shame and self-directed rage as their linked hands exposed him to her internal world. "I could sense what was about to happen. To Clint, and to Ignatius. I still couldn't stop it." Her voice cracked. _Useless, I'm so fucking useless._ The stray thought hadn't been directed at him. He wasn't sure she had even meant for him to pick up on it. His heart wrenched, and he brought his other hand up to clasp hers. She swallowed hard, struggling to take a deep breath, then shook her head. "And every time I fall asleep… it all happens all over again."

"Do you want me to ask the doctor if there's something you could take to help with that?" he suggested. She shook her head, sighed, then shrugged.

"Maybe. I was thinking I just had to give myself time to process it, but I feel like I've been stuck. And not sleeping has not been helping," she admitted. _Though I don't think there's a pill that will make me less… useless._ He was again blindsided at the wave of despair that rolled over them both. Nyssa dissolved into another coughing fit, her labored breathing punctuated by the monitor's beeping, which was becoming incessant. Bucky caught a glimpse of movement outside the doors as the nurse began getting the protective gear on again.

"Why don't you just concentrate on getting better?" he suggested. "You're not exactly _useful_ if you're burned out. Or worse."

"You can say it," Nyssa said raggedly, still gasping for breath. "I'm pretty useless if I'm dead." She lay in the bed for a moment, fighting to catch her breath. "If I don't… get better, promise me…"

"No, that's not going to happen," Bucky said firmly. The nurse finally made it into the room and silenced the beeping. She adjusted the oxygen meter on the wall.

"Your saturation levels keep dropping," she observed. "I already notified the doctor, but I'll page respiratory to come give you a nebulizer, okay?" Nyssa nodded.

"Thank you," she panted.

"No more talking," Bucky said reprovingly. "Save your breath." He cleared his throat. "Could she get something for pain? She'll never ask, but she's really hurting." Nyssa made a small noise of protest. The nurse nodded, then turned and left.

"You know what that shit does to me," she hissed at him. He shrugged.

"What, takes away your pain? Helps you be more comfortable?" he countered. She shook her head.

"It does weird things… in my brain," she reminded him. "Everything gets jumbled together. I can't keep anything out…"

"Which is kind of where you're at already," he returned. "Look, you need to rest. You can't do that when you're in this much pain." He was getting little twinges of it every now and again as they held hands, though he was not as adept at it as she was, and he could do nothing to relieve it. But modern medicine could, and he'd be damned if he let her suffer needlessly. Nyssa sighed, and he could feel her relent. She didn't say anything to argue when the nurse returned with syringes of clear, pain-relieving elixir. By the time the respiratory therapist arrived with something to help her breathe better, she was resting more quietly, although the monitor continued its rhythmic beeping every few minutes. After the nebulizer, her coughing decreased, and she lay still. Bucky was dismayed when another figure in a protective gown, respirator and face shield entered the room. He stared at Bucky for a moment, his eyes disapproving behind his face shield.

"You should not be here, sir," he informed Bucky crisply. "Certainly not without the protective equipment we provided. This room is under quarantine." Bucky shrugged, but sat back, releasing Nyssa's hand. She didn't move or stir, and he was finally satisfied that she was really sleeping

"I brought her here this morning," he pointed out. "I've already been exposed."

"That doesn't mean we can be careless about further exposure," the man responded, his tone clipped. Bucky contemplated him a moment.

"You must be one of the doctors," he observed. The man nodded.

"Forgive me if I don't shake your hand, under the circumstances," he replied. "I am Dr. Zamfirescu, and I am with the Infectious Disease specialists. I happen to be the resident expert on exotic diseases." Bucky nodded.

"So, what's the prognosis, Doc?" he asked, his tone more flippant than he felt. It was hard to read the doctor's face behind the mask, but Zamfirescu shook his head.

"Guarded, at best," he declared. "Her pulmonary function tests were abysmal. The xrays show infiltrates in both lungs. She certainly has pneumonia, either from the virus or viruses, or possibly from an opportunistic bacterium. The cultures will take time to process. Her inflammatory markers are off the charts, but the immune response isn't what I would expect for what we're seeing. Given her history, I am not entirely surprised." Bucky took in a deep, shaky breath.

"So, what are our options?" he asked. Zamfirescu pressed his gloved hands together.

"Mostly, we must focus on supportive therapies, symptom management. Things to help the pain, help her breathing. Given her body's response, immunoglobulin therapy might be helpful…"

* * *

Bucky was in a dark mood by the time he left the hospital for home. He couldn't help but worry. Nyssa was in a much more fragile state than he had realized, physically, mentally and emotionally. He was kicking himself for not realizing how much his wife had been struggling. His humor was not much improved as he entered the parking ramp and saw a news crew lingering there. Pulling his hat low over his eyes, he shoved his hands deep into his pockets and tried to be as inconspicuous as possible as he trudged to where he had parked. Alas, he was too recognizable now. He had only made it a quarter of the way when the reporter made a beeline for him, the cameraman trailing just a few steps behind.

"Mr. Barnes, is it true that Dr. Taylor has contracted the SRFV virus? How is she doing? What is her condition? Her prognosis? Can we expect more cases now that she has brought it to New York? Is she under quarantine? If she is under quarantine, why did they let you leave?" He walked faster as the reported peppered him with rapid-fire questions. He stopped and turned, eyes blazing. The reporter faltered for a moment, but daringly shoved the microphone into his face. Bucky ripped the microphone out of her hand and threw it to the floor of the parking garage.

"Go home," he spat at her. "There's not a story here."

"So, your wife hasn't been hospitalized?" she returned boldly. He suppressed the urge to punch the self-assured look right off her face.

"I'm saying it's not your business," he ground out through gritted teeth.

"If Dr. Taylor has brought a highly contagious and potentially deadly virus back after her time overseas, isn't that everyone's business?" she challenged. With a growl, he pulled the camera out of its operator's grasp and hurled it to the ground. Glass and metal fragments skittered across the concrete.

"Leave it," he snarled.

* * *

 **I swear, I had this part planned before the Coronavirus was in the news! A note on the title: a psychosomatic illness isn't one that is made up or "all in their head." It's an effect where stress and mental health issues can make physical symptoms much, much worse. Thanks to karina001, DarylDixon'sLover, SomebodyWhoCares and my lovely Googling guest for your comments and feedback!**


	49. Isolation and Quarantine

**Disclaimer: Marvel Characters are property of Marvel. Original Characters are mine. Just for fun, not for profit.**

* * *

 **Isolation and Quarantine**

"Daddy, Daddy, wake up! Wake up! It's breakfast time! Time to make me breakfast!" Bucky opened his eyes blearily and blinked at the clock on the nightstand. It was difficult to read the numbers with all the shaking as Brooklyn bounced on the bed around his prone body, but he could have sworn the first number was a 6. "Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, can we have pancakes? Pancakes with chocolate sprinkles and whip cream?"

"Maybe," he mumbled into the pillow. He hadn't been able to fall asleep right away when he got home. Worries and anxiety had kept him awake into the wee hours, and it seemed he had only just fallen asleep a few minutes ago. Rolling over, he grabbed Brooklyn mid-bounce and pulled her against his chest. "But first, you must escape… the Daddy Trap!" She squealed with laughter and wriggled against him. He held her a few moments longer as she pushed against his arm, then squirmed around so she was facing him and pushed with both knees and hands against his body. He relented, releasing her just enough that she could wiggle out of his grasp. "Oof, you're too strong for me," he announced. She grinned and held up both arms in triumph.

"Pancakes now?" she asked. He heaved a sigh, rubbing his face blearily with one hand.

"I guess," he relented. "That was the deal, right? Where's your brother?"

"Living room, watching animals," Brooklyn answered, jumping off the bed and scampering out the door. Bucky pulled himself out of bed with a groan. He walked into the living room and paused. Darshan was curled up on one end of the couch. Jameson lay beside the dog, his head resting on the dog as if he were a pillow. Balaur perched on the back of the couch behind them. All three had their attention trained intently on the nature documentary on the television. Jameson glanced over at his father.

"Morning, Daddy," he greeted him. "Balaur wanted to watch something with hunting." On the screen, a crocodile snapped its massive jaws over the head of an unaware antelope and dragged the animal into the river. Bucky stared at him, bemused by the situation. How long had the children been up already, and how had he slept through it? Shaking his head, he glanced down at his phone, registering wearily that it was only twenty minutes after six in the morning. He paused and frowned as he noticed he had a voicemail that hadn't been there the last time he checked his phone in the middle of the night. His heart skipped a beat as he saw that it was from the hospital. He had the phone to his ear listening as he slowly made his way into the kitchen. There wasn't much information in the message, just a request to call the hospital at his earliest convenience.

"Pancakes, pancakes, pancakes." Brooklyn was dancing in the kitchen, chanting. She tugged on Bucky's hand. "Come on, Daddy, let's make pancakes." He pulled his hand free, gesturing for her to wait.

"Hold on just a minute," he told her. "I know waiting is hard. I have to make an important phone call."

"Awww, but I'm sooo hungry!" she whined.

"I know, Babydoll. Just… give me five minutes, and then we'll make pancakes. Why don't you start getting together the stuff? We'll need milk, eggs, flour, butter, sugar, salt and baking powder."

"And whip cream and chocolate sprinkles?" Brooklyn added hopefully.

"That will be for after, when we're eating them," he reminded her. "But… why don't you grab some chocolate chips, too?"

"Okay!" Having been given a mission, Brooklyn began clambering on the counter to gather ingredients. Hopeful that it would keep her distracted for at least a few minutes, Bucky returned his attention to his phone. He called the number of the nursing station she had been on when he left the night before.

"May I speak with the nurse taking care of Nyssa Taylor?" he asked the person who answered the phone. "Room 4523."

"Hold on a moment, sir." There were a few moments of silence, then some hold music, and he watched Brooklyn pile flour, sugar, chocolate chips, butterscotch chips, baking powder, baking soda, powdered sugar, chocolate sprinkles, rainbow sprinkles, food coloring, cinnamon and garlic on the counter. The disembodied voice came back on the line. "Nyssa Taylor is not on this unit anymore. She's been transferred. Hold one moment, I'll transfer you."

"No, wait…" There was so much implied in that statement, and he wanted to know more, but the hold music was cutting in again. He sighed in exasperation. "Brook, we don't need all of that. And you still need the butter, milk, eggs and salt." Her eyes widened, and she jumped off the counter, darting over the fridge. He shook his head slightly. There would be time enough to sort out the ingredients they needed from the rest after he was done with his call.

"Unit 3500."

"Hi," Bucky said shortly. "I need to speak with the nurse caring for Nyssa Taylor."

"Yes, sir. Hold one moment." Bucky rolled his eyes at being asked to hold once more.

"Daddy, I got it all together. Can we start now?" Brooklyn asked, jumping up and down in front of him.

"We need a griddle," he reminded her. She nodded. Darting to the cupboard, she stared noisily unloading pots and pans from the shelves, scattering them on the floor as she looked for the pancake griddle.

"This is Cara," someone finally answered the phone.

"Hi, this is Bucky Barnes," he returned. "I had a message on my voicemail to call about my wife, Nyssa Taylor? And she was transferred to a different unit?"

"Yes, sir," Cara replied. "This is a critical care unit. Last night, your wife developed pulmonary edema and acute respiratory distress syndrome. Her lungs were filling up with fluid due to the virus, and she wasn't able to breathe adequately on her own. She was transferred to this unit." She continued speaking, but Bucky couldn't hear her over the clanging of pots and lids on the floor, accompanied by Brooklyn's cheerful commentary.

"Daddy, help!" Brooklyn requested from deep in the cabinet.

"Hold on, Brooklyn," he snapped. "Just… be quiet a minute, can you?" He paced down the hallway. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch anything you said after you told me she was transferred to your unit because of her lungs filling up with fluid."

"Yes, sir," Cara replied calmly. "We are treating her with diuretics to try and offload some of that fluid accumulation, and she is on a ventilator to make sure her body is getting enough oxygen." Bucky felt like all the air had left his own lungs. He sagged against the wall.

"Is she conscious?" he asked shakily.

"Not at the moment," Cara informed him. "It's our protocol to sedate patients while they are on a vent." He closed his eyes. She would hate that, being trapped in her own head and unable to block out anything around her.

"Can I… can I come see her?" he asked next.

"She is still in isolation," Cara reminded him. "I'm afraid visiting is prohibited." Bucky took the phone from his ear and glared at it. After a moment, he put the phone back to his ear.

"So, just so I understand you," he responded, making an effort to keep his tone even, "my wife's condition has deteriorated overnight to the point of needing to be on a respirator, but I still can't come see her?"

"That is what isolation means," Cara replied, but he could hear a note of sympathy in her voice. "But we aren't heartless. I will discuss it with my supervisor. With the proper precautions in place, you could come in for a brief visit. I have your number on file. Why don't I give you a call back once I've figured out how you can see her?"

"Okay," he took in a shaky breath. "Thank you for the update." He ended the call and realized that the noise in the background he had been trying to tune out was Brooklyn crying. "Shit." Her legs and butt were hanging out of the pots and pans cupboard, her upper half buried inside.

"Daddy, I'm stuck!" she wailed. Kneeling behind her, he carefully extricated her. She howled and flung one arm around his neck as soon as she was free, rubbing her head with the other hand. "Daddy, I hurt my head!"

"I'm sorry, Babydoll," he said sympathetically, kissing her on the head where she had been rubbing. "Do you need an ice pack?" She sniffled, then shook her head.

"It feels better," she told him. She sniffed once more, then leaned back to look at him, her face brightening. "Can we make pancakes now?"

* * *

Two hours later, with the twins fed and dressed, the kitchen reasonably cleaned up and the animals tended to, Bucky knocked on the door to the Bartons' apartment. Laura opened the door, looking slightly annoyed. As soon as she saw Bucky, her expression brightened, then shifted to concern.

"Bucky, is everything okay?" she asked.

"Can you watch them for a couple hours?" He gestured to the twins. "Nyssa's in critical care." Laura winced sympathetically.

"Sure, yeah. Don't worry about them," she agreed.

"But Daddy, I wanna go with you," Jameson protested. "I wanna see Mommy."

"Me, too!" Brooklyn chimed in. Bucky crouched down to their level.

"I know you do," he said, putting his arms around them. "But what Mommy is sick with, other people can catch, so the hospital has very strict rules about who can be near her. I'm lucky they're letting me visit. You just play with Gracie and Nate, and I'll be back to get you before lunch. Okay?"

"Saoirse will be here later, too," Laura mentioned brightly. Bucky frowned at her slightly.

"Where's Steve going?" he asked. She raised her eyebrows at him.

"Contract negotiations," she reminded him.

"Ah," Bucky responded, the word barely more than an exhaled breath. With everything going on with Nyssa, the other things had slipped his mind. He should be going to that, too.

"If you want to go to that, too, I can keep the twins here," Laura offered. Bucky took a deep breath.

"We'll see how I feel after the hospital," he hedged. Laura nodded understanding.

* * *

The protective gear they insisted he wear took several minutes to don, and they told him to keep the visit less than ten. He was covered head to toe, the protective suit topped with a cloth helmet with a clear plastic visor. He finally stepped through both sets of doors into his wife's hospital room. She lay still and small in the bed, looking pale fragile surrounded by machines, a massive tube going down her throat, motionless except for the rise and fall of her chest, each breath accompanied by a mechanical hiss. His vision blurred, but the protective gear kept him from wiping his tears away. He moved closer to the bed, taking in all the lines, wires, sensors and tubes going into and coming from her body. Most of the time, he was amazed by and thankful for how much modern medicine had advanced in the last century, but right now he loathed it with a passion. He wrapped his gloved hand around the limp one on top of the blanket, but could feel nothing other than that it was cold.

"This wasn't how this was supposed to go," he whispered, not trusting his full voice. "You're supposed to be getting better, not worse." She didn't stir; gave no outward sign that she had heard him. He looked down at their linked hands, resenting the layers of cloth that separated them. "You're supposed to get better so I can bring you back home with me. The kids miss you. Darshan misses you. I think even Balaur misses you. And I miss you. God, do I ever miss you." He took a deep breath. He wasn't sure she was awake enough to hear anything he was saying, but on the off chance she was, he wasn't about to stop. "I miss your smile, and your laugh. I miss your touch. I miss your sense of humor, and your enormous, loving heart. I miss… I just miss you. I miss my wife." His voice cracked, and he closed his eyes for a moment, trying to reign in the emotions flooding over him. "I don't know when things changed between us. When we drifted apart, or how. I just want you home again. And even if you never do anything for the rest of your life other than sit in a rocking chair, growing old with me, you could never be useless." With everything she had accomplished in her life, he was flabbergasted that she could associate that word with herself. "I love you, no matter what."

* * *

He returned to Avenger's Tower in a fugue. He desperately wanted to believe that Nyssa would get better soon, and life would return to normal, but the realist inside him had to plan for every contingency. It also made him admit that things didn't look very optimistic at the moment. He was barely aware of his surroundings as he crossed the familiar lobby, heading to the elevator. Before he was halfway there, however, lights began flashing, and a set of walls sprang up around him, trapping him inside a space the size of a broom closet.

"What the hell?" he yelped.

"Sorry, Barnes." Tony's voice over the intercom didn't sound very sorry. "Got to keep you from tracking any viruses home. We have a new decontamination protocol."

"Seriously, Tony?" Bucky spluttered in exasperation. "I took precautions. I'm no more contaminated now than when I left."

"Can't take any chances," Tony replied. "Now, hold still. This won't hurt. I don't think." The inside of the booth suddenly lit up with blue and green lights so bright that Bucky was forced to close his eyes. He could feel his skin prickling and itching as it grew hotter and hotter in the tiny space. He felt a brief burning sensation traveling across his skin like scorched lightning and didn't bother suppressing the profanity that burst from him. The fiery sensation stopped abruptly, and the lights went out, plunging him in darkness. Slowly, the walls trapping him slowly lowered, retracting into the floor. Tony Stark was standing several meters away, digital tablet controller in hand. Bucky glared at him.

"Thought you said that wasn't supposed to hurt," he spat. The sensation had been extremely unpleasant, but was already fading into a memory, leaving behind no trace on his skin. Tony looked mildly surprised.

"Oh, did it? Well, it's still in the beta testing phase. I'll get those bugs worked out." He tapped on the screen of the controller a few times. "I just can't have exotic viruses tearing through everyone on the team. You understand." Some of the rage ebbed out of Bucky as he imagined his family and friends as sick as Nyssa. Tony didn't stop to commiserate, however, instead heading back towards the elevator. Bucky followed. He pushed the button that would deliver him safely home. "By the way, Fury wants to see you." Tony didn't even glance up from the tablet as he delivered the message. Taking a deep breath, Bucky pressed the button that would take him to see Fury.

* * *

Nick Fury was sitting behind the desk in his Avengers Tower office. His feet were crossed and propped on the desk as Bucky paused in the doorway. He tapped tentatively on the door, unsure whether Fury was aware that he was there. Fury waved him in, his attention trained on the television screen in the corner. As Bucky walked in, Fury pointed a remote at the screen. The images on it froze.

"Barnes, you ever watch these celebrity gossip shows?" Fury asked. Bucky couldn't suppress a grimace.

"I try not to, sir," he said sourly. He had seen a handful. Since the Avengers were relatively high-profile, they did end up in the gossip rags and those shows on occasion, but it was hardly ever flattering. He had decided early on that his two options were to pay attention to it and get upset, or ignore it. He usually chose the latter.

"Maybe you should," Fury speculated. He pressed play on the remote. Bucky winced as the blurry images resolved into a recording of his altercation with the reporter in the parking garage last night. Sinking down into a chair, he covered his face with his hands, peeking through his fingers to see himself lose his temper. The camera kept rolling right up until it got a close-up of Bucky's metal hand sailing towards the lens. It ended with a blur of shaky motion. Fury pressed pause with a chuckle. "I could watch that all day." Bucky glanced at him in disbelief.

"Sir?" He wasn't completely certain whether he was in trouble or not. Fury pointed at the screen, taking his feet down.

"That reporter is Ainslie Hamilton," he explained. Bucky looked at him blankly. Fury leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk before him. "She works for SHN, that channel that calls itself the Superhero Network." Bucky nodded. That, he was familiar with. Despite the name, that network was not a fan of the Avengers or their work. Instead, they put considerable effort into questioning everything the Avengers did, and putting them in the worst light possible. "Ms. Hamilton has been busting my chops for the past two years, targeting us with skewed stories. It's kinda nice to see someone calling her on her bullshit." Fury cocked his head to the side, focusing his one-eyed gaze on Bucky for the first time since he had entered the room. "Doesn't do much for our image, though." His visage was severe, and Bucky cringed inwardly, though his face remained expressionless. "I have been instructed by the United Nations to make sure you are appropriately chastised for that little display." Bucky dropped his gaze to his hands, folded in his lap.

"Yes, sir," he said quietly. He glanced up at Fury, whose expression hadn't softened.

"Consider yourself reprimanded," Fury instructed. He sat back in his chair. "And if there is a bonus that shows up on your next paycheck, it most certainly has nothing to do with this little incident. Understood?" Bucky's eyes widened.

"Yes, sir." Now Fury's face did relax, softening into something almost fatherly, though technically Bucky was several decades older.

"Look, Barnes, I understand you're under a lot of stress right now." His tone was not unkind. "How is Dr. Taylor doing?" Bucky looked away.

"I'd rather not discuss..." he forced out. He couldn't even finish the sentence, couldn't bring himself to say out loud what he feared; that he might be facing the worst possible outcome. Fury nodded slowly.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Fury replied sincerely. "She's an extraordinary woman. I hope she recovers." Bucky nodded automatically, numbly, staring off into space. "Unfortunately, I have some more bad news for you." He looked back at Fury warily. "You're not going to be able to go see her again," Fury said flatly. "The Tower is going on lockdown. Quarantine. Everyone here has likely been exposed since her return. Including me. So make yourself comfortable. Nobody is going anywhere for a while, until we determine if anyone is developing symptoms. Stark is working on new decontamination procedures for anyone who _has_ to come in the building." Bucky snorted.

"Yeah, I ran into those already," he said sourly. "Still need some work." He shifted his weight in his seat. "How long are we going to be on quarantine?" Fury shook his head.

"The CDC is running the show on that. A minimum of a week, to start. Longer if any of us start showing symptoms." He folded his arms over his chest. "A little bird told me you've already tested positive." Bucky nodded, then shrugged.

"I've been exposed," he acknowledged. "I haven't had so much as a cold since they gave me the serum, so I don't think I'll get sick." Fury didn't seem impressed.

"So you're a carrier," he observed. Bucky glanced down and nodded begrudgingly. Fury sighed. "Then you're on house arrest. I won't presume to tell you what to do with your children, but you're not to come within six feet of anyone else. Understand?" Bucky nodded, sliding his chair back and giving Fury more space. Fury raised his eyebrows at him. "Good. Now, before you go. I have some reading material for you." Fury reached into a drawer and pulled out a stack of paper. He set in on the desk and pushed it towards the other side. Bucky frowned and picked up the stack of papers.

"What's this?" he asked, scanning through the first page. It all looked very technical.

"Your negotiated contract," Fury informed him. Bucky glanced up at him in startled confusion. "I negotiated on your behalf. Review it, and if you're satisfied, sign it. Then… maybe just mail it in." Bucky sighed.

"Yes, sir." Picking up his contract, he stood. "Thank you, sir."

"Great. Now get out of here." Fury waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "You're contaminating my office."

* * *

"Daddy, Daddy, watch me! Daddy, watch what I can do!" Bucky felt his face and gut tighten with annoyance. He turned silently and watched Brooklyn press her hands to one wall of the hallway, while she pushed her feet on the other wall. Slowly, she worked her way up the hallway wall until her back was pressed against ceiling. Bucky sighed.

"Just remember how I told you to fall so you don't hurt yourself when you hit the floor," he reminded her, then turned his attention back to cleaning up the supper dishes. Brooklyn's trick had been impressive the first dozen or so times she had done it, but she was going on nearly a hundred times at this point. He loved his children dearly, but after being cooped up with them with no respite for nearly two weeks, even the repetitive calling of his name set his teeth on edge. He hadn't seen an adult in person since his meeting with Fury. He still hadn't had so much as a tickle in his throat. Brooklyn and Jameson had developed symptoms a couple days after Nyssa was hospitalized. There had been about 48 hours when both children had been lethargic and feverish with a cough, and Bucky had done what he could to make them comfortable. They appeared to have fully recovered at this point. The twins were climbing the walls – literally, in Brooklyn's case – and there were times Bucky was almost starting to wish for the blissful oblivion of cryosleep. The news had nothing encouraging, either, with death reports and warnings to avoid going to public places. Nyssa had not been the first to bring the virus into the country, or even into New York City, but she was still one of the highest-profile victims. He was constantly getting requests for interviews or questions about Nyssa's condition. He had responded to the first few requests with a polite refusal, then a not-so-polite rejection, and now was just ignoring his phone. The highlight of his day was something he both anticipated and dreaded: a daily call to the hospital for an update on Nyssa's condition. The worst-case scenarios that had played out in the darkest places of his imagination had not come to pass, but neither had she made a miraculous, instant recovery. They had treated her with immunoglobulin infusions, antivirals, steroids. They had placed something called a central line – something he had had to give consent for over the phone – to give her nutrition directly into her bloodstream. That morning's report had been the most optimistic thus far: they were going to try to wean her from the ventilator and see if her lungs had recovered enough to breathe on her own. The nurse had promised to call him with an update, but he hadn't heard anything from the hospital since then.

"Daddy, what if butterflies were so big, they could pick up a person and fly away with them?" Jameson was sitting cross-legged on the kitchen counter, one of his animal books open in his lap. Bucky paused and considered his son's question.

"Maybe we would have to ask them to join the Avengers," he replied humorously. Jamie nodded seriously.

"I wish I could fly," he sighed, looking back down at the illustrations. Bucky shook his head.

"I don't," he countered. Jameson gave him a quizzical look.

"Why not?" he asked. Bucky shrugged. Down the hallway, there was a loud thud as Brooklyn tumbled to the floor. Bucky glanced in her direction with concern, but she popped back up off the floor and immediately began clambering the walls again.

"I'm okay!" she announced, then grunted in exertion. Bucky half-grinned and returned his full attention to his son.

"I don't see any need to be that high. I'll leave that to Iron Man and Falcon," he replied evenly.

"But if you were a butterfly, you'd have huge, beautiful wings," Jameson argued, holding up his book to show Bucky the brightly colored insects. Bucky shook his head.

"Nah, I'll stick with black." A knock sounded at the front door, and Bucky's head swiveled that way with a frown. To say he wasn't expecting anyone was an understatement. Darshan whuffed suspiciously and trotted towards the door, regarding the entrance with his ice-blue eyes. Bucky opened the door to find an empty hallway. Frowning, he stepped into the hallway and looked from side to side, but nobody was there. He glanced down and noticed a brown paper bag sitting on the carpet in front of his door. He nudged it with his toe, but it didn't explode. Darshan sniffed at it, then turned his back on it and sauntered back towards the kitchen. Bucky picked it up, reassured it wasn't anything lethal. Inside, he found a headset with a sticky note attached. _Avengers Reassembled, 2030_ was written on the note in Sam's neat handwriting.

"What's that, Daddy?" Jameson asked with interest. A slow smile spread across Bucky's face as he regarded the slip of paper.

"It's an invitation," he replied.

* * *

It was almost quarter to nine by the time he finally got both twins to sleep, growing ever more impatient as the minutes ticked by. Brooklyn finally fell asleep, and he nearly sprinted back to the living room. Slipping on the headset, he signed into the network and started up the game. Avengers Reassembled was the name of the game that Double Helix had released. Immediately, an invitation to join a game in progress popped up on his screen. He pressed the button to accept.

"Oho, look who finally decided to join us." Sam's voice over the headset was teasing. "I was starting to wonder if you were thinking you were too good for us after all."

"Oh, shut the fuck up, Wilson," Bucky replied, though he didn't bother to suppress the grin that spread across his face. "Had trouble getting the kids down. If you're lucky, someday you'll know what that's like."

"Oooh, them's fighting words right there." Scott's voice over the line took Bucky by surprise.

"You're here, too, Lang?" Bucky asked with a chuckle of disbelief.

"We were surprised, too," Tony interjected. "We thought he was going to be later than you."

"We're all here," Natasha's voice replied. From her tone, he could imagine her expression, with half a smirk tugging at one corner of her mouth. "So, are we going on this mission, or not?"

"Let's do it," Bucky said eagerly. "What's the scenario?"

"Nah, wait. First off, who are you playing as?" Sam countered challengingly. "Yourself?"

"Well, I ain't playing as you, Flyboy," Bucky countered. He heard a few snickers and a familiar chuckle over his headset.

"Hey, Buck." Steve's tenor sounded somewhat hesitant. "We're aiming to keep it light tonight, but I do have one favor to ask."

"Shoot," Bucky replied immediately.

"Can you give Phi an update when you can? She's worried sick about Nyssa, and the hospital won't tell her anything other than she isn't allowed to visit." There was a loud chorus of groans and protests from the headset.

"Jesus Christ, Rogers. We had one rule, and you broke it already," Tony said rebukingly.

"I know, I know," Steve said unrepentantly. "I just don't know how much it helps to ignore the elephant in the room. We all miss her, worry about her and want her to be well enough to come home." Bucky sighed. He had requested that no information be given to anyone but him, especially after his run-in with Miss Hamilton and her cameraman. It gave him a pang to hear Nyssa mentioned, but it wasn't like she wasn't always on his mind already. Having the support and sympathy of the others – silent or otherwise – did help to ease the ever-present ache of her absence.

"Yeah, I'll give Seraphina a call," he promised. "Now, what's the mission?"

* * *

He stayed up until the wee hours of the night. Running virtual missions in a game with his friends and teammates wasn't quite the same as doing it in real life, but it was a fair approximation. It had felt good to reconnect. Even being awakened by Jameson climbing into bed to snuggle with him at four in the morning only brought a smile to his face. He pulled the boy in close and went back to sleep.

"Daddy, when will Mommy be home?" Brooklyn asked at breakfast the next morning. It had become a daily question. Bucky sighed.

"I promise, I will tell you as soon as I know," he replied, just as he had every morning. "She's still too sick to come home right now." The daily update from the hospital had been less than reassuring. She hadn't tolerated being off the ventilator for long. Some of her lab numbers had improved, and they were going to try again today. Or something like that. He had already called Seraphina to apprise her of Nyssa's progress, and let her know he gave permission for the hospital to update her directly.

It was becoming a challenge to find diversionary activities. They couldn't leave the tower, and for the time being were even forbidden from using the Virtual Reality suite. They painted pictures and did puzzles for about an hour while Bucky made sure the kitchen was up to military spec. Brooklyn begged him to let her braid his hair. He sat down on the floor in front of the couch and let her tug on his locks for awhile. She was still very much a beginner, so the result was a series of sloppy twists starting over his left eyebrow and weaving cross-wise across his head, but it kept her occupied and happy for a few minutes, at least. Jameson took advantage of Bucky being unable to move and requested they paint each other's nails. His son chose a sparkly purple polish for his own nails, and Bucky carefully applied it to Jamie's tiny fingernails. Jamie then chose a bold red polish for Bucky, who sighed inwardly but held still while his son painted his nails – and a generous portion of his fingertips – crimson.

"There!" Brooklyn announced, tugging harshly one last time on Bucky's hair. "All done!"

"You look so pretty, Daddy!" Jameson informed him. Bucky smiled, feeling some of his annoyance melt away. Brooklyn began bouncing on the couch.

"Can we watch a movie, Daddy?" she asked. Bucky grinned.

"Sure. You pick the movie, and then I'll go make us popcorn," he promised. They had watched every animated movie available to them multiple times already, but Bucky didn't mind having the break. Animated movies had come a long way since he had first seen one, anyway. The twins settled on the couch and snuggled into one another.

Bucky was halfway through making the second bag of popcorn when there was a knock at the door. Bucky turned and gave it a quizzical look. Darshan whuffed from the living room and trotted over to the door. Bucky signaled him to sit and wait, and the dog obediently did. He opened the door to see Laura standing there with a hopeful smile and a casserole dish.

"Bucky, hi!" she said cheerfully. He frowned.

"Laura, what are you doing here?" he asked. "I'm a carrier. We're all still supposed to be under quarantine."

"Oh, I know," she said breezily. "But it's already run through my household. Lila and Nate were sick all last week. I had a cough, sore throat and fever on Monday, but it seems to have run its course. Now we're all feeling better, but we still can't leave that tiny little cracker box apartment. So, nothing much to do besides clean and cook." She hefted the casserole dish significantly. "I made some extra for you, since you're alone with your kiddos. Ah… can I come in?" He wasn't entirely sure it was a good idea, but Bucky stepped aside and gestured for her to enter. As she went by him, he caught the faint trace of ginger and coconut again, a scent he was starting to associate with her. Darshan whuffed suspiciously as she passed by him, but didn't move. Bucky hadn't given him permission. "You've always been so kind to me, and to my family," she continued, setting the dish down on the counter. "Especially since Clint…" She hesitated, then continued. "Anyway, it's the kind of thing my mother raised me to do. When people are sick, you cook for them, or for their family. Anything we can do to help. Makes life a little bit easier."

"So you just came to drop off food?" Bucky asked skeptically. Laura turned to face him, her cheeks turning slightly pink.

"I mean, it's also nice to get out of the apartment," she admitted. "See another adult who isn't related to me." She glanced away, then back at him. "It's good to see you, Bucky. I'm glad you're doing okay." He softened.

"Yeah, we're hanging in there." He glanced towards the living room, where he could still hear the movie playing. Twin giggles told him the children were still distracted and entertained by the film. Laura's gaze traveled up to his hairline, her lips curving into an amused smirk.

"Are you… experimenting with some different hairstyles while you're on quarantine?" she asked teasingly. Bucky raised an embarrassed hand to his head, where he could still feel the bumps and snarls of Brooklyn's handiwork.

"Errr… the kids wanted to play beauty shop," he explained, flashing his brightly painted fingertips. Laura chuckled.

"You're so good with them," she remarked. "They're lucky to have such an attentive father." She was standing very close to him now, and he was acutely aware of her proximity. That, combined with the scent of her was making him slightly dizzy. It had been nearly two weeks since he had been this close to a woman, and much longer than that since anyone had looked at him the way she was looking at him right now. She reached out and touched his right arm, her fingers grazing the curve of his bicep just above the elbow. "You're a good man, Bucky. Any woman would be lucky… to have your time and attention." Her gaze dropped to his mouth, and she swayed closer as her hand traveled up his arm to his shoulder. His hand caught the curve of her hip. Her lips floated tantalizingly close to his. He leaned forward and captured her mouth with his. She was soft, warm and willing in his arms, eagerly kissing him back. Hot desire traced a coil through him, but cooled slightly as it collided with the cold knot in the pit of his stomach. He broke the kiss off, though his eyes remained closed.

"Wow," Laura whispered faintly. He felt her fingertips trace along his cheek. "I never dared hope you felt…" Her voice trailed off as he shook his head abruptly.

"What are we doing?" he asked roughly, opening his eyes to look at her.

"Perhaps offering some comfort," she suggested, boldly meeting his gaze. "We've both been through a lot lately. And I know we're both lonely." Bucky frowned.

"I love my wife," he replied archly. In the moment, he wasn't entirely certain whether he was reminding her or himself.

"And I loved my husband," she shot back, her voice an angry whisper. "That doesn't mean we can't have… feelings for other people."

"I think you should leave," Bucky said flatly. "You shouldn't have come to begin with." Laura looked like she wanted to argue, the pink in her cheeks deepening to crimson.

"You wanted that kiss just as much as I did," she accused. Bucky silently crossed the room and opened the door. He stood and waited, not looking at her. With a sigh, she left, and he closed the door behind her. He stayed in the kitchen a few minutes longer to compose himself. His insides were churning with a maelstrom of unabated desire, frustration, guilt and anger. The anger was partially directed at Laura for tempting him, but mostly towards himself for his moment of weakness. He got a drink of cold water and downed it in one draught. Then he grabbed the bag of popcorn from the microwave and tore it open savagely, dumping it into the bowl. Turning to carry it to the living room, he paused. Darshan was still sitting at attention watching him, pale blue eyes striking against his dark coat.

"What are you looking at?" Bucky snapped. "Go lay down." Released from his sit command, Darshan obediently stood up and trotted off in the direction of his bed.

* * *

By the time Bucky had finished the bedtime routine and the twins were asleep, he was still chewing over what had happened in the kitchen. He sat down on the couch and started flipping through channels, looking for something to distract him from the events of the day. He had surfed through all 250 channels twice, finding nothing appealing, when the communications console began to chime. Bucky went to answer it. His heart leapt as he realized the incoming call was from Nyssa. He pulled a chair up to the station and accepted the call. The call screen transformed into an image of his wife. Her face was pale and greyish, with deep shadows around her eyes, and she was curled up on her side in her hospital bed, her digital interface blinking from behind her ear. A wan smile spread across her face.

"Hi," she croaked, her voice weak and hoarse. "I'm awake. I'm alive. I'm breathing on my own."

"Hey," Bucky replied, leaning closer to the camera on the console. "I'm so glad. Did they say when you can come home?" Nyssa's head wobbled slightly, side to side.

"Not yet," she said ruefully. "They say I'm not out of the woods yet. And I'm going to have to work with physical therapy to get my strength back. But at least I'm conscious." Bucky nodded, grinning. It was the best news he'd had in weeks.

"The twins will be glad to hear that," he assured her. "They're in bed now, but they've been asking about you every day. They miss you. We all do."

"Give them extra kisses for me," Nyssa requested. "Tell them I will work as hard as I can to get strong enough to come home." Bucky nodded.

"I will," he promised. Nyssa's forehead crinkled in concentration.

"I don't know how much longer I can hold focus for this," she admitted, touching the widget behind her ear. "I just wanted to see you again. I wanted to hear your voice. I love you."

"I love you, too, Nyssa," he returned. Her wan smile widened. The picture fuzzed, then the screen went dark. Bucky sat back in the chair with a sigh, then stood up with new resolve. There was only one solution to this situation he had gotten himself into. He would have to make it clear to Laura that what happened between them could never happen again, and there could never be anything between them. The larger problem would be how to keep Nyssa from finding out about it.

* * *

 **Thanks to DarylDixon'sLover, LadyAmazon, SomebodyWhoCares, karina001 and Qweb for reading and reviewing! I will admit that part of this has been working though my anxiety over the pandemic. I'm a nurse, so I'm right in the thick of it. However, I promise, promise, promise that we'll move on from it next chapter. Thanks for hanging in there with me. Everyone stay safe and stay healthy out there!**


	50. Recovery

**Disclaimer: Marvel Characters are property of Marvel. Original Characters are mine. Just for fun, not for profit.**

* * *

 **Recovery**

"Two hundred seventy-five, two hundred seventy-six…" Brooklyn and Jameson chorused from where they were perched on Bucky's back. He slowly lowered his body closer to the floor, then pressed back up, keeping his back and legs straight. "Two hundred seventy-seven…"

"Russian," Bucky panted, pausing before he attempted another one. As he lowered himself down and pressed up again, Brooklyn switched her numbers to Russian. After a couple counts, Jameson joined in. Bucky did several more push-ups, then told them to switch to Romanian. They both fell silent, and he could nearly hear the wheels turning in their heads. He prompted by counting himself for two push-ups, and then they joined in and counted with him. For the last ten, he had them change to Spanish.

"Y trescientos!" Brooklyn announced, jumping off Bucky's back and landing lightly on the floor. "Hi, Uncle Steve, Auntie Sera!" Bucky let his knees rest on the carpet and looked up. Steve was standing a few feet away with an amused look on his face. Beside him, Seraphina looked impressed. A cloud of strawberry blonde curls peeked out from behind Steve's leg.

"See-sha!" Jameson slid excitedly from Bucky's back, and Bucky climbed to his feet. His shirt was damp with sweat, and he took a moment to wipe his face with the edge of it. Jamie darted over to peek around Steve's legs at Saoirse, making silly faces at her. She giggled, then chased after him. Brooklyn followed them both, jumping over the couch on her way.

"Thanks for coming over," Bucky panted. They had gotten special permission, given the circumstances, to break quarantine. Bucky had to leave Avenger's Tower on a very special mission.

"Of course, Buck," Steve replied. "We're not that concerned about the virus. By now, you should be clear, anyway."

"And I wouldn't miss it for anything," Seraphina added. "Okay if I use the kitchen while you're gone?" Bucky nodded.

" _Mi casa es tu casa_ ," he replied, gesturing vaguely at the apartment. "Make yourself at home. I'm gonna shower quick before I go."

"That's a good idea," Seraphina replied, wrinkling her nose slightly. Bucky shot her a good-natured dirty look, then disappeared into the bathroom.

* * *

Bucky pulled the car up to the hospital entrance. He didn't have to wait long before he spotted someone in scrubs wheeling a wheelchair towards his car. The wheelchair was adult size. Inside it, Nyssa looked frail and childlike. Clear plastic tubing ran from an oxygen tank hanging on the back of the chair to under her nose. The doctor had warned him that she may need supplemental oxygen for quite some time, and might always need it. Her lungs carried scars from her battle with the virus. None of that mattered to him in this moment, though. He got out of the car and went around to open the door for her. Bending down, he extended his hand to her.

"Shall we, milady?" he drawled. She grinned at him and slipped her hand into his, leaning on it for support as she stood and walked the few strides to the car. She was slightly out of breath as she settled in. Bucky crossed back to the driver's seat and got in beside her.

"Where are the kids?" she wheezed.

"I wanted to bring them along," he assured her, "but I was lucky they let me out long enough to come get you. We're still under quarantine." He caught the sigh and the flash of guilt across her face. "Don't worry, though. They're fine. Darshan is watching them." The guilt was quickly replaced with confusion and horror.

"You left them with the dog?" she yelped. Bucky chuckled.

"Relax," he reassured her. "Steve and Seraphina are watching the dog." She let her breath out in a wheezy puff, then started to laugh. The chuckle turned into a cough as Bucky pulled back out onto the street towards home.

* * *

Bucky felt his heart lift as he carried her over the threshold of their apartment. Darshan was so close on his heels, he nearly tripped him.

"Welcome home!" The chorus of voices greeted them. There were fragrant flowers in bouquets scattered around the apartment, and candles burning at strategic points. The smell of freshly baked cake permeated their home. Jameson and Brooklyn danced around the living room, chanting, "Mommy's home! Mommy's home!" Saoirse joined in their dance, wiggling her butt, stomping her feet and waving her hands. Steve and Seraphina stood by, watching with smiles, although Seraphina's brow still had a worried wrinkle in it. He set Nyssa gently down on the couch and reconnected her oxygen tubing to the cannister beside it. Jameson immediately climbed up beside her, his little arms twining around her head and neck as he pulled her closer. Darshan lay down on her feet, curling up in a position that made it clear he had no intention of moving any time soon.

"Mommy, Mommy, look what I can do!" Brooklyn cartwheeled across the living room. Nyssa gave her a look of amazement.

"Wow, that's amazing, Brook! You must have been practicing that so much!"

"That, and flips, and headstands. Oh, and she can literally climb the walls now," Bucky said dryly. Brooklyn clambered up on the couch and joined her brother on Nyssa's lap. Bucky gestured to the flowers, candles and cake. "You did all this? I wasn't gone that long." Steve and Seraphina exchanged glances.

"It was mostly Phi," Steve replied, giving his wife an affectionate look. "She stated planning it the moment you asked us to help out."

"I didn't know you baked, Phina," Bucky returned Seraphina shrugged.

"It used to be an occasional thing, but since the quarantine it's become more of a serious hobby," she confessed. "I had to do something other than revising wills and drafting legal briefs."

"She's been baking up a storm," Steve said, patting his midsection. "Can't you tell?" Bucky raised an eyebrow. Steve still looked as trim as ever.

"Not particularly. You could send some of that my way if you're getting sick of it," Bucky joked. Seraphina sat down on the couch next to Nyssa and took her hand in both of hers.

"I made your favorite," she informed her friend. "Dark Chocolate Cherry." Nyssa's eyebrows went up, and she smiled.

"That sounds amazing," she pronounced, then a sly smile pulled at one corner of her mouth. "What's the occasion?" Seraphina rolled her eyes.

"Your welcome home party, silly," she scoffed.

"Let's have cake!" Brooklyn said enthusiastically, jumping off the couch and dashing to the kitchen. The adults chuckled.

"Okay," Nyssa said amicably. "Time for some cake." Seraphina sliced, while Bucky distributed plates. Jameson refused to leave his mother's lap, but enthusiastically accepted the cake when brought to him. Bucky cringed to think of the frosting and crumbs in the couch, but decided to let it slide this time. It was like a breath of fresh air, having his friends and his wife all together and enjoying delicious cake while chatting amicably. He noticed, though, that Nyssa put her cake aside after just a few bites. Her eyes were getting that glazed, fuzzy look to them again, her head resting wearily on the back of the couch.

"All right," he announced. "It was really good to see you guys, and I appreciate everything you've done. But I think we need to let Nyssa rest."

"Okay," Seraphina sighed, taking Nyssa's hand again. "You need to call me every day so I can see how you're doing."

"Yes, ma'am," Nyssa responded. "I'll make you sick of me."

"Not possible," Seraphina volleyed back. "But I look forward to seeing you try." She leaned forward and kissed Nyssa on the forehead. Standing, she scooped up Saoirse and headed towards the door.

"It's good to see you feeling better, Nyssa," Steve said, touching her shoulder lightly. She touched his hand on her shoulder with a faint smile.

"It's good to be home," she responded. With a nod, Steve followed his wife and daughter out the door.

"Mommy, come play with me!" Brooklyn begged, tugging at Nyssa's arm.

"Oh, baby, I can't. I'm sorry," she sighed. Bucky thought he saw the glimmer of tears in her eyes. He scooped his daughter up and carried her towards the kitchen.

"The doctor said Mom was well enough to come home, but she's not completely well yet," he explained quietly to the girl. "She still needs some time to get back to the Mommy you're used to. So, we have to make sure she gets plenty of rest, lots of good food, and lots of love, so she gets strong again." Brooklyn looked at him intently, tipping her forehead into his.

"But I want her to be better now," she whispered. Bucky closed his eyes.

"Me, too," he whispered back. He opened his eyes again, meeting her daughter's gaze. "So, we have to love her up extra, until she's all better. Think we can do that?" Brooklyn nodded solemnly. Bucky set her back down. He wasn't entirely sure he should even be promising his daughter that Nyssa would recover. The doctor had said there was no guarantees. She might never get back to her previous level of functioning. Still, she was home. He could deal with the rest.

"How about some lunch?" he suggested out loud. "Are you hungry?"

"No, but I should probably eat something besides cake today," she acknowledged. Jameson perked up on her lap.

"Mac an' cheese!" he suggested. With a chuckle, Bucky went to make lunch.

With bellies filled and Nyssa's pillows fluffed, he sat down with his guitar. His fingers easily found chords, and danced along the single strings, coaxing sounds from the guitar that matched his mood. He glanced over at his wife. She was sitting with her eyes closed, Jameson still snuggled in close to her. She might have been asleep, except for the wide smile spread across her face. Jameson was watching his father with wide eyes and a serious expression.

"You've really improved," Nyssa observed quietly. Bucky half-grinned at the compliment.

"Had lots of time to practice lately," he reflected. She nodded slowly.

"Daddy, play Itsy Bitsy Spider!" Brooklyn demanded.

"Okay, but you know I don't sing," he reminded his daughter.

"That's okay, I can sing. Mommy can sing," Brooklyn decided. Bucky sighed.

"Babydoll, I'm not sure…" he began hesitantly. Nyssa's speaking voice was still hoarse and weak, and he wasn't sure she had the breath to sing.

"I can still sing," Nyssa assured him. "It might not be very loud, but I can sing." Bucky amenably began playing the requested tune. Brooklyn immediately added her voice, and after half a bar, Nyssa joined in. Her singing voice was still rough, and barely above a whisper, but it was there, just as sweet as ever.

* * *

Having Nyssa home definitely made quarantine more bearable. Slowly, she grew stronger, defying the doctors' predictions. Bucky threw himself into proving how devoted he was to her by making sure she always had whatever she needed, wanted, or even considered for more than a moment. Jameson still clung to her for most waking hours, and insisted on snuggling with her at night. After a week, she was able to stop wearing oxygen, and she moved around their apartment without getting short of breath. After two weeks, she started doing yoga again. By three weeks, she almost seemed back to her normal self, though she was still thin and pale. After a month of her being home, they lifted the quarantine. Bucky received a request from Valkyrie Arms for a meeting to begin their ad campaign, and the UN was requesting that all the Avengers who had agreed to work with them come in for an initial briefing and planning session.

"Are you sure you'll be okay here by yourself?" he asked as he readied his bag to go. Nyssa nodded, sitting at the counter with her hands cupped around her coffee mug. The twins were still at the table, finishing their breakfast.

"We'll be fine," she assured him. "We probably won't stay here, though. We're running low on groceries, and there's a lot of people I want to see now that we can actually leave."

"I can pick up groceries on my way home," he argued. "Can't they come here and see you?" Nyssa raised an eyebrow at him.

"I've been stuck either in a hospital room or this apartment for just as long as you," she reminded him. "I want to get out and get some fresh air. Get the kids out of the house." Bucky hesitated, then nodded understanding.

"Okay," he relented. He regarded her for a long moment. There were so many things he still wanted to discuss, but hadn't found the right moment. The children were always underfoot, Nyssa was sleeping more than she usually would be, and when she was awake, he was more inclined to just enjoy her company than dig into the unpleasant feelings she had confessed from her hospital bed. Neither one of them had mentioned it since she had returned home. She always had a bright smile for him, but the shadows on her face still lingered when she thought nobody was looking. The distance between them remained despite his efforts. "I'll have my phone with me. Call if you need anything." She smiled.

"I will," she promised. "I love you."

"Love you, too," he replied as he headed out the door.

* * *

Bucky was one of the first to arrive at the UN meeting room. The tables had been labeled with names at each seat. Bucky found his, and realized he was seated next to Natasha. She was already there, sitting back in her seat with her arms folded over her chest. She looked up at him with a half-smirk.

"Hey, partner," she greeted him as he sat heavily down in the seat next to her. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"With all the resources and people they have at their disposal, why did they stick me with you?" he groused good naturedly. Natasha nudged the folder on the table in front of them in his direction.

"Me and you? I have no idea. It's not like we have… similar areas of expertise or anything," she answered wryly. Bucky picked up the folder and saw that it was labeled 'Interstellar Espionage and Covert Operations.' Natasha gave him a significant look. "I guess this is gonna be our baby." Bucky nodded slowly, starting to look through the paperwork in the folder. "So, speaking of babies, how's the family? How's Nyssa doing?"

"Good, they're good," he said absently, scanning through the opening paragraphs of their assignment.

"Really?" Natasha responded disbelievingly. "Because word on the street was that Nyssa still looked like death, even though they let her come home." Bucky snapped the folder shut and turned his full attention on her.

"Actually, she's exceeding all expectations," he informed her. "She's off of oxygen and getting stronger every day." Natasha's face registered surprise.

"Really?" She smiled. "That's good to hear. Does Marquis still come around?" Bucky shook his head. Between Nyssa being out of commission and Avengers Tower going on lockdown, he hadn't heard from or seen his wife's employee since the day he had taken her to the hospital.

"I'm not sure if Superkids is going to be in business anymore," he admitted. He would have to discuss it with Nyssa and find out what her plans were for that.

"That must be a relief for you," Natasha observed. Bucky frowned.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked slowly. Natasha shrugged.

"I mean, have you seen him?" she queried incredulously. "That man could be a model. You might be lucky your wife is blind." Bucky's frown deepened.

"I'm lucky she doesn't have a wandering eye," he said frostily. "Maybe I should warn Bruce that you do?" Natasha's eyebrows rose.

"Just because I'm with Bruce doesn't mean I'm blind," she replied archly. "It also doesn't mean I'm going to do anything about it. Relax. I was mostly joking anyway."

"Mostly?" Bucky emphasized back to her. She nodded.

"I mean, he is a very good-looking man. But the rest…" She gestured vaguely and shook her head. "I don't really think Nyssa would mess around on you." Bucky felt a twinge of his conscience, like a thin knife sliding into his gut, as he recalled his own moment of weakness.

"Right," he replied uneasily. Flipping open the folder once again, he began paging through the thick stack of papers. After the initial section, which seemed to be a description of operations for their new program, there was nearly a ream of personnel files. "Are these… potential recruits?" Natasha frowned slightly, leaning over to look more closely at them.

"Looks like," she acknowledged. "Oooh… this one could be useful." She pulled a dossier from the pile to read it more thoroughly.

* * *

"See-sha, See-sha, See-sha," the twins chanted as they waited outside the door to Steve and Seraphina's apartment. They were almost as excited to be out of the house and visiting friends as Nyssa was. The door opened, and Sera grinned as she saw her friend standing outside.

"Come on in, guys," she said, standing aside as the twins charged past her. "Sisi is really excited to see you." The little girl in the living room bounced up and down, clapping her hands. "And so am I," Sera added. "Being a toddler's only source of entertainment for weeks on end is exhausting." She sighed dramatically, then turned her full attention to Nyssa. "Plus, it's so good to see you! How are you feeling? You look amazing, especially compared to the last time I saw you. Can I get you some coffee?"

"Coffee would be great," Nyssa accepted, slipping off her shoes and padding into the apartment, Darshan at her side. "It smells amazing in here."

"I've got cupcakes in the oven, and cinnamon rolls cooling on the counter," Seraphina acknowledged. "I have one day left before I'm due back in court now that the quarantine is lifted. I'm starting to consider quitting my practice and opening a bakery instead." Sera put a large, fragrant cinnamon roll on a plate and slid it in front of her friend.

"Mmm, that smells delicious," Nyssa commented, pulling a gooey chunk off and popping it in her mouth. She closed her eyes and chewed blissfully. "Tastes even better," she proclaimed. "That does sound like a delicious venture, but won't your clients be disappointed?" Seraphina sighed.

"I mean, it's mostly a pipe dream," she admitted. "Maybe someday I'll retire, open up a little cupcake shop in Soho or West Village…." Nyssa snorted.

"You could if you really wanted to," she opined, popping another bite of cinnamon roll in her mouth. "I'd pay money for this."

"Yeah, but that whole… arc of the moral universe still needs the hands to bend it towards justice," Sera sighed. "And these days, it needs every set it can get. So, I'll just be a weekend baker for now."

"What has Steve been up to?" Nyssa inquired. "I mean, other than eating baked goods." Seraphina grinned.

"Mmm, he was painting up a storm. I can hardly walk around his art room or our bedroom now, there's so many canvases. I'm negotiating with some of the galleries in town to put them on display so we can free up some space around here. But honey, you haven't seen the inside of my refrigerator. I've still got three dozen cupcakes, two cakes and a pie I made since last weekend, and I think he's tired of sugar. I think he's looking forward to me going back to work just so there isn't so much… temptation around here all the time." She half-chuckled to herself. "At least, that's what he calls it."

"Well, if you want to offload some of this temptation, I have a few people I owe thanks and apologies to," Nyssa mentioned. Seraphina frowned, consternation and concern displacing the contentment that she had settled into.

"Apologies?" she repeated. "Apologies for what? Getting sick? Nyssa, you shouldn't have to apologize for that." Nyssa shook her head.

"Not for that specifically, no," she denied. "More for… obligations cast aside, unintentional oversights, that type of thing."

"Because you were sick. In the hospital," Seraphina pointed out darkly. "You nearly died. If there's anyone who needs cake to be happy to see you again, they don't deserve to be in your life."

"I'm not saying they need it," Nyssa returned. "I'm sure they don't. But it would make me feel better to… not arrive empty-handed." Seraphina sighed and pulled the cupcakes out of the oven.

"It would be nice to have more space in the fridge again," she reflected. "And if it'll make you feel better…."

"I'll pay you for them," Nyssa offered. Sera huffed indignantly.

"Don't you even think of it," she refused.

* * *

The morning meetings were long, and more intense than Bucky had been anticipating. He hadn't been expecting to meet with members of the CIA, KGB, Mi6, ASIS, ISI, DGFI, Mossad and DGSE all in the same room. What he had presumed to be an introduction to their common goal quickly devolved into a debriefing and interrogation session as they all wanted as much information on alien biology and technology as he could give them. Once they all realized he could understand their native languages without using the provided interpreters, they didn't bother waiting for translation. He found himself under a nearly constant barrage of questions in five different languages and three different dialects of English. After a couple hours, he was starting to get a headache. With some effort, he was able to return the discussion to what their purpose was supposed to be: creating a cooperative covert ops and espionage organization. He was finally satisfied that they had made some progress by the time the meeting ended. It was time for lunch, and he was supremely relieved they would not be meeting again in the afternoon.

Steve found him in the commissary and set his lunch tray down next to his, seating himself with a sigh.

"Is this what progress and peace are supposed to feel like?" Steve asked wearily, running a hand down his face. "Because it kinda feels more like beating your head against a brick wall."

"I thought you'd be used to that kind of thing by now," Bucky teased. Steve gave him a grudging half-smile.

"How was your meeting?" he asked. Bucky shrugged.

"Not much different from yours, from the sound of it," he replied. "I think one of the most difficult pieces is going to be making sure our agents aren't more loyal to the interests of their nations of origin than to the good of the planet."

"You'll have to be careful who you recruit," Steve noted. Bucky nodded.

"How about you?" he asked, taking a bite of his burger.

"Well, we finally settled on a name," he said with a note of forced cheerfulness. Bucky raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, yeah?" he asked expectantly. "What's it going to be?"

"Stellar Corps," Steve replied, the note of pride in his voice leaving Bucky no doubt who had come up with the name.

"Not bad," he pronounced. "We didn't even get that far."

"Maybe this afternoon," Steve suggested. Bucky shook his head.

"We're not meeting again today," he informed his friend. "They have other engagements, and I have an appointment with Valkyrie Arms." Steve gave him a surprised look.

"Valkyrie Arms? Are you getting some updates to your arsenal?" he queried.

"You think my arsenal needs updating?" Bucky volleyed back, then shook his head. "No, they want me for some ad campaign or something. They said something about a photo shoot."

"Photo shoot?" Bucky looked up as Sam sat down with a chuckle. "You adding model to your long list of questionable career choices?"

"I'm sure the focus will be the guns, not my face," Bucky retorted. Sam snorted.

"You're not all that familiar with marketing and advertising, are you?" he commented dryly. Bucky gave him a hard look.

"Not exactly my area of expertise, no," he said slowly. Sam chuckled and shook his head.

"Well, you get back to me tomorrow and tell me how much they focused on the guns, and how much they focused on _your_ guns. Ahight?" Sam dug into his lunch while Bucky regarded him with dismay.

* * *

"Brooklyn, honey, make sure you hold the box level. We don't want to bring him smashed cupcakes," Nyssa chided gently. She could see Marquis was home before she knocked on the door. He registered surprise at the sound, which turned into astonishment and delight when he opened the door to see Nyssa and the twins.

"Papa yo, yuh alive, boss?" he exclaimed. Stepping back, he gestured for them to come in. "Come on in. Wat's dis?" The last part of his statement was directed at Brooklyn, who held the box of cupcakes up over her head towards him.

"An apology," Nyssa admitted. Mystified wisps of confusion brushed through his countenance.

"Apology?" He repeated. "For what?"

"With me in the hospital so long, I imagine it created problems for you," she explained. "Especially so abruptly."

"You plan to be sick?" Marquis asked skeptically, highlights of amusement flickering through his presence. Nyssa huffed a brief chuckle.

"No, of course not," she denied. "It still made things more difficult, even if it wasn't intentional." Marquis shook his head.

"No apology needed," he said easily. "I will take the cakes, though. Better belly buss than good food waste." He helped himself to one of the cupcakes.

"Is this where you live?" Jamie asked, looking around wide-eyed at the apartment. Marquis nodded.

"Eh-heh. I live here," he confirmed. "Most of this belongs to muh roomie, Jyoti."

"Where is Jyoti?" Jamie asked curiously. Marquis shrugged.

"Off liming, no doubt. We don't keep track of each other."

"What's this?" Brooklyn asked, shuffling through some papers strewn across the table. Marquis stepped quickly over to rescue them from her curious grasp.

"Important," he informed her in a more serious tone than Nyssa was accustomed to hearing from him. She gave him an inquiring look. He tidied the papers self-consciously. "While we were on quarantine, I got a call from Ms. Maximoff and Ms. Romanov. Seems they want me to be a teacher at some new school they plan to open," he explained. "I reminded them that I didn't have any formal schooling for teaching. They said they thought I was perfect for the job, so they'd help me fix that. So… I'm applying to colleges." A delighted grin spread across Nyssa's face.

"I'm so very glad," she breathed. "What do they want you to teach?" Marquis grinned and shrugged, shaking his head.

"Not really sure," he admitted. "They just said 'normal subjects.' Ms. Romanov mentioned several times that the children should 'learn all the normal subjects, not just combat'." He gestured with his lower set of hands, puzzled at the idea of training children to fight in the first place. "Whatever that means." Nyssa chuckled.

"I think it means you will all learn a lot from each other," she mused.

Bucky would never admit it to him, but Sam had been right. The moment he had arrived, they had ushered him into a make-up chair. He had spent the next hour being primped, polished, hair styled and make-up applied. They even rubbed oil on his arms and chest, which confused him somewhat. He assumed he was just going to be putting his shirt back on anyway. He was then escorted to a large room with lights and cameras set up and pointed at a screen. Erik Feinberg sauntered over, looking Bucky over appraisingly as he would a racehorse.

"Captain Barnes, glad you agreed to this," he said crisply. Bucky's new contract with the UN made this promotion official, so there was no need to correct him this time. Erik gestured to the androgynous-looking person approaching them. "This is Candide, our photographer. Just follow directions, and you should earn that paycheck in short order."

"I think I can handle that," Bucky said dryly. He was military, after all. Following orders was second nature. Candide regarded him with a frown for several long moments, then snapped a pair of perfectly manicured fingers.

"Lose the shirt. I want to get the full effect of that arm," Candide pronounced decisively. Bucky frowned.

"I thought these were combat weapons," he pointed out reasonably. "I can't think of any combat situations that would require me to be shirtless." This earned him an arched look and a raised eyebrow from Candide, who gestured grandly to the room around them.

"Does this look like a combat situation to you?" the photographer inquired archly. "Shirt off. We want to see all of your… assets." Thinking of the five-figure compensation written into his contract, Bucky begrudgingly obeyed.

* * *

"Brooklyn, take my hand while we're close to the street. Jamie, hold on to your sister's. Remember, holding hands is how we stay safe," Nyssa reminded her children as they exited the market. Darshan padded obediently by her side in his working harness, while her other hand was occupied by her oft-wayward daughter. Not for the first time, she thought enviously of Marquis' four hands, and how useful they must be. The bustling city street was crowded, with more people pressing in on her than she had experienced in a long time. To keep from being overwhelmed, she kept her mental shields up and held them tightly. It had already been a full day, but she just had to get back to Avenger's Tower and the refuge of their little apartment. It was only a few blocks. They turned the corner and found themselves on a relatively empty sidewalk. Holding tightly to Brooklyn's hand, she took a deep breath of relief, looking forward to the relative peace of their apartment. A man approached them on the sidewalk, heading directly towards Nyssa. She moved aside to let him pass, but he shifted as well, still in line to collide with them. Nyssa stopped short, regarding him warily. The vague sense of apprehension that had been building since lunchtime exploded into alarm in her chest. Darshan rumbled suspiciously, hackles rising.

"Excuse me, sir," Nyssa called out. "We just want to pass."

"I bet you do," the man replied, keeping his voice low. "But you're going to come for a little ride with me, instead." She heard a vehicle pull up to the curb beside them. Darshan's keen nose picked up the distinctive scent of metal and gunpowder, and both he and his mistress heard the soft click of the safety being disengaged. "Unless you want the kiddos' brains splattered all over the sidewalk."

* * *

When Bucky had been a young man, before his years of war and captivity, he probably would have enjoyed being the center of attention, with bright lights shining on his oiled skin. Those days were long gone. While he wasn't as wary and paranoid as he had been a few years ago, it was still uncomfortable. He consoled himself with the table of gleaming artillery they had set up for him to hold and play with while they took pictures. Sadly, none of them were loaded.

"Yes, yes, dark and broody," Candide said approvingly. "I am liking the war-weary look." Bucky stared at the photographer. It wasn't a look; that was just his face. More approving noises accompanied a flurry of shutter clicks.

"Bucky!" He glanced over to the side at the sound of his name, and was shocked to see Laura waving at him from beyond the circle of lights. He had sent her a lengthy text after their brief interlude, but she hadn't replied. He had assumed she was angry with him, which hurt, but was probably for the best. But now she was here, smiling hopefully at him from across the room.

"Let's take a break!" Candide announced. "I want everyone back in fifteen minutes! Captain Barnes, you need to be back in ten for some touch-ups." Bucky nodded and gratefully escaped the glare of the spotlights. Laura half-jogged across the floor to catch up with him.

"Bucky, wait!" she called. With a sigh, he paused and half-turned to wait for her. She stopped a couple feet away, her gaze quickly scanning appreciatively over his oiled chest and arms, then back up at his face. "I gotta say, whatever you're selling, I'll buy it." He wasn't certain how to take the compliment, all things considered.

"What are you doing here?" he asked warily.

"I tried you at home, but there was nobody there," Laura explained. "Friday said you'd be here."

"Okay, but why are you here?" he tried again, annoyed by her non-answer. She held a hand up, palm towards him.

"Just… give me a couple minutes, okay?" she requested. "I think we need to talk. I didn't want to do it over text or email." Bucky shook his head.

"What is there to talk about?" he asked tersely. "We made a mistake. I made a mistake. One I don't intend to repeat." Laura looked down at the floor.

"I know," she said softly. "I'm not asking for that." Bucky turned and took a step away from her, intending to see what they had for him at the refreshment table. She caught him by the forearm. "Bucky, please don't walk away from me." He paused, looking down at her hand wrapped around his arm. "I count you as one of my closest friends. I don't want to lose that. I don't want to lose you." Frowning, he turned back towards her. "Look, I know I messed things up between us. It's been so hard since Clint…" She hesitated, then forced it out. "…died. It's been so lonely. And you were there, so helpful and… and kind. And in so many ways, you remind me of him, what I loved about him. It's not an excuse. But for what it's worth, I'm sorry. I never intended to hurt you. Or Nyssa." At the mention of his wife's name, Bucky closed his eyes.

"Look, I'm not making any promises," he told her finally, opening his eyes again. "I'm going to need some time. But don't mention anything about this, that, anything, to Nyssa. She has enough on her plate without me adding to it. Clear?" Laura nodded.

"How long, do you think?" she asked hesitantly. Bucky raised his eyebrows at her and shook his head slightly.

"I don't know," he answered honestly. "I'll let you know." He glanced at the clock. "I gotta get back." Laura nodded but remained silent. Bucky glanced over his shoulder as he settled back into the makeup chair, but it appeared she had gone.

* * *

 **Thanks to karina001, DarylDixon'sLover, SomebodyWhoCares and my lovely guest with the newspaper at the ready for your lovely comments. I'm relieved that y'all aren't mad at Bucky or Laura. It's a sticky situation, to be sure, but also understandable given the stresses everyone has been under. Of course, Bucky shouldn't be keeping it a secret. That never ends well.**


	51. Jeopardy

**Disclaimer: Marvel Characters are property of Marvel. Original Characters are mine. Just for fun, not for profit.**

* * *

 **Jeopardy**

Nyssa tensed, shifting her weight onto her back leg. Darshan dropped his head low, growling. Nyssa dropped his harness and rested her hand on his shoulder, maintaining their connection. With her other hand, she nudged Brooklyn over.

"Get behind me," she instructed in a hushed voice. Brooklyn obeyed, for once. Jameson was already hiding behind her, clinging to the back of her pant leg. Nyssa directed her attention back to the man holding on a gun on her and her children. "We're not going anywhere with you," she informed him. "But if you let us go, we can pretend this never happened." The man let out a short bark of laughter.

"Not likely," he sneered. "I've waited a long time for this day. The Winter Soldier killed my family. Now he's going to know what it's like to have everything you care about ripped from you." Nyssa's heart dropped into her stomach. She didn't want to have to fight in front of her children, but she didn't see any other way out of this one. In the van, she sensed two other men waiting, watching the situation unfolding on the sidewalk. She lifted her hand from Darshan's coat, and he immediately leapt at their assailant. His jaws closed around the man's arm, yanking it to the side just as he fired, sending the shot flying wildly. Nyssa was not far behind the dog, executing a handspring flip and delivering a hard kick to his jaw, sending him flying backwards. He landed hard on the pavement, and Nyssa was already on top of him. She grasped his wrist, sending him from stunned awareness to deep slumber in an instant. Taking the revolver from his hand, she fired it into the windows of the van. Her shot traveled directly through the head of the man in the passenger seat, and he slumped down, senseless. The bullet continued through the nose of the man in the driver's seat. A yelp followed by profanity drifted through the new hole in the window. Tires squealed and the smell of burning rubber filled the air as the van peeled away. Nyssa exhaled and dropped her hand down at her side. Darshan immediately placed his nose in her palm. She glanced over at where the twins were still standing on the sidewalk, hands clasped together. The entire encounter had lasted only moments.

"You guys okay?" she asked anxiously. Jameson's face crumpled, and he began to wail. She rushed over and pulled both of her children into a hug. Jamie clung to her, his tears soaking her shirt. "Are you hurt?" She didn't sense any physical hurt from her son, just abject terror.

"No, scared!" he wailed. She rubbed his back soothingly. There was a faint trace of fear in her daughter, but mostly Brooklyn was full of awe and adoration.

"That was so cool, Mom!" she squealed. "You kicked ass!" Nyssa directed her attention towards the man still lying on the sidewalk. He remained unconscious for the time being, but he might not be much longer. Darshan was still watching him with suspicious eyes. The scent of blood was heavy in the air.

"Come on, kids," Nyssa urged. "Let's go."

"I wanna see Daddy!" Jameson sobbed. Nyssa nodded. She was feeling shaken herself, and wouldn't mind the reassurance of Bucky's presence. She wasn't entirely certain that their apartment would be safe right now. Would there be someone waiting for them there as well? Standing, she took her children by the hands. Darshan moved to take the lead, his watchful gaze taking in everything, scanning for potential threats.

"Let's catch a cab to go see Daddy," Nyssa suggested. Jameson sniffled, mollified.

* * *

"No, no, no, this is all wrong," Candide fussed. "More flex. More smolder. More… oil!" The photographer gestured to Bucky's makeup artist, and the harried-looking girl hurried over with her bottle of baby oil. Bucky wrinkled his nose in disgust. He already felt like he had enough oil on him to be deep fried. He was looking forward to this being over so he could finally go home and take a shower. He moved his assault rifle out of the way, careful not to point it at anyone.

"Bucky!" He looked over, startled to hear Nyssa's voice. At first, he thought maybe he was imagining it, but then he spotted her in the shadows beyond the bright circle of lights. She was pale, and from her expression he could tell something was wrong.

"Nyssa? What's going on? Why the hell are you here?" Pushing past the girl dabbing oil on his pectorals, he closed the distance between him and his wife. As he drew closer, he realized she had both children in tow. A stray thought made him glance around, making sure Laura Barton was gone. He was relieved that he didn't see her. Jameson screamed as Bucky came nearer, climbing Nyssa like a tree and burying his face in her neck. Bucky stopped, confounded.

"Shh, it's okay," Nyssa said soothingly, rocking her son back and forth. "It's the gun he's upset about," she informed Bucky. Bucky lowered the rifle and slowly set it on the floor.

"It's okay, buddy, it's not loaded. I'm not going to shoot anyone," he said placatingly. Nyssa smiled grimly.

"Unfortunately, that wasn't the case with the last one we just had pointed at us," she said. Bucky's eyes widened.

"What?" he gasped, appalled. Nyssa nodded.

"Someone just attempted to kidnap us at gunpoint," she informed him.

"But Mommy and Darshan kicked his ass!" Brooklyn volunteered cheerfully from her mother's side. "Darshan was all grr-rawr, and then Mommy went whooo-ah! And then blam, blam, blam at the men in the van, and then they went rrrrrreeeech and drove away." She animatedly acted out the scene for her father.

"Yeah, kinda like that," Nyssa agreed. She looked back up at Bucky. "He wasn't acting alone, but he had a personal investment. He said... the Winter Soldier killed his family." The breath left Bucky's lungs like a sucker punch to the gut. His past sins were coming back to haunt him – and endangering his family.

"Who was he working for?" he asked breathlessly. Nyssa shook her head.

"I didn't stop to dig that up, I'm afraid," she said ruefully. "I wanted to get out of there before the one that got away came back with reinforcements. But hopefully we can still find out. I called the police on the way over here, and they picked him up."

"Captain Barnes, is something the matter?" Erik Feinberg crossed over to them. Bucky looked over at him.

"Mr. Feinberg, this is my wife, Dr. Nyssa Taylor, and our children," he introduced. Erik nodded to Nyssa.

"Pleasure to meet you, I'm sure," he said smoothly, then turned his attention back to Bucky. "I'm not entirely sure this set is an appropriate place for children, Captain."

"My family was just attacked, Mr. Feinberg," Bucky said darkly. Erik looked startled.

"Well, in that case, they can stay here until you're done," he allowed. Bucky shook his head.

"I'm done now," he pronounced firmly. "I'm sure you got what you needed."

"But Captain, if you recall, your contract states…"

"Fuck your contract," Bucky growled. "I'm done." Grabbing a nearby towel, he rubbed oil off his chest and arms as best he could. Not bothering with a shirt, he put his arm around Nyssa and walked his family towards the door.

"For today, right?" Erik called after them. "We'll be in touch about the next session?" Bucky didn't reply; didn't even give him a backwards glance. Erik folded his arms over his chest and watched them leave.

* * *

"Daddy, Daddy, Daddy! We saw so many people today!" Brooklyn enthusiastically narrated over her plate later that evening. "We played with See-sha and visited Auntie Seraphina, Grampa Elijah and Marquis." She ticked the names off on her fingers. "Then we went to the grocery store, then Mommy fought the man with the gun, and then we visited you, Daddy!" Bucky glanced over at his wife. He felt better after showering and changing clothes, and he'd had a chat with Friday about security settings – both to increase surveillance in the building given the kidnapping attempt, and also to make sure his schedule was only released to certain people who needed to know.

"Busy day," he commented. He frowned slightly. "You visited Marquis, too?" Nyssa nodded.

"I wanted to check in with him after leaving him with all the children at such short notice," she confirmed. "And to make sure I hadn't gotten him sick, too. But he seems well."

"His apartment is so tiny, Dad!" Brooklyn interjected. "And he shares it with someone else! He let us play with his metal drum. He said he missed us."

"I didn't realize you two were close enough that you visit him at home," Bucky observed, trying to keep his tone neutral.

"Well, we have been working pretty closely together for over a year," Nyssa replied, giving her husband an askance glance. "I would count him as a friend."

"I see," Bucky replied. "Is he taking over Superkids? Is that what he was doing while you were sick?"

"Kind of. Laila and Jarek still needed daycare after the Tower went on lockdown," Nyssa explained. "So, he stepped up for that. I think next week I can probably take over again. At some point, I may have to start looking for another assistant. I guess Wanda and Natasha want to hire him for their residential school they are working on setting up." Bucky raised an eyebrow, thinking of Natasha's comments about Marquis earlier that day.

"Is that so?" he commented.

"Mmm-hmm," Nyssa confirmed absently, turning towards Jameson, who hadn't said a word and was pushing pieces of pork chop around his plate with his fork. "Jamie, honey, aren't you hungry?" Jamie shrugged.

"Not really," he sighed. "It just… tastes so sad." Bucky frowned.

"Well, I think it's very good," he declared. "Mine doesn't taste bad at all."

"No, no," Jamie protested. "Not bad. Sad. It tastes so, so sad." Bucky gave his son a puzzled look, not really understanding what he was talking about. Nyssa seemed to have an idea, because she patted him comfortingly on the shoulder.

"You don't have to eat it if you don't want to," she reminded him. Jameson pushed his plate away.

"I can't look at it," he pouted.

"What about the potatoes or the peas?" Nyssa asked. "You like those." Jamie shook his head.

"They're too close to the piggy," he whined. Bucky took Jameson's plate and scraped the meat off onto his own, then set it back down in front of his son.

"There, all fixed," he pronounced. Jameson looked forlornly at his plate, then glanced over at his father's plate.

"How can you eat all that sad?" he asked softly.

"Because it's delicious," Bucky replied, pointedly raising a forkful of meat to his mouth and chewing it with relish. Jamie gave him a sour look.

"He can't taste the sadness, honey," Nyssa said gently. Bucky gave his wife a sharp look at the suggestion that she could.

"I ate all of mine!" Brooklyn announced, patting her empty plate with a flat hand. "What's for dessert?"

* * *

After dinner, Bucky led the twins downstairs to the newly sanitized gym. This time of day, nobody was using it. He brought them over to the padded section used for sparring.

"Okay, both of you stand against the wall, right there." He pointed, and they moved. He crouched down in front of them. "There are people in this world that might try to hurt you sometimes," he told them bluntly. "I want you to be clear on this. Your mom and I will always try to protect you. You aren't required to fight them on your own. If you find yourself in a situation where someone is trying to hurt you, you try to get away from them first. You get away, and you find me. Understand?" They both nodded slowly, eyes wide. "Good. If you can't get away, then you fight. I'm going to teach you how."

"Daddy, I already know how to fight," Brooklyn protested, balling up both hands into fists. Bucky nodded.

"You throw a mean punch," he agreed. "But there's more to defeating an enemy than just hitting them once. Especially if they're bigger than you." He backed up and gestured for her to approach him. "Now, I know we're always telling you to use gentle hands, and you still should, in most cases. But this is the exception. Brooklyn, I want you to hit me as hard as you can." Brooklyn stepped forward, fists clenched, and swung a right hook at his midsection. He let out an "oof" as the blow drove the air from his lungs momentarily, and he was again astonished by the strength in someone so young. "Ho-kay, that was good," he allowed. "But you'll get more power into it with a wider stance, and make sure the power is coming from your core, not just your arms." He gently corrected her legs and adjusted her position. Thinking better of letting her use him as a punching bag, he picked up a punching target and held it up for her. "Now try again." Her hit knocked him backwards. He got back up with a chuckle. "Better. Now Jameson, your turn." Jameson stepped forward hesitantly.

* * *

"Nnngh! Let me go! Help, Jamie!" Brooklyn squirmed in her father's grasp as they wrestled on the floor, then reached out a hand towards her brother. Jameson quickly came to his sister's aid, bracing his feet against Bucky's midsection and pulling on his arm. Bucky put up a token struggle, then let his arm be pulled away. Brooklyn scrambled free, took a few steps back, then ran and took a flying leap at her father. He grunted as she landed on him. He had gone over some basics with them, pointed out weak points they should target. They had listened as well as preschoolers could, and followed his direction. Then the sparring session had devolved into wrestling and roughhousing on the mat. Their giggles and shrieks of laughter echoed in the gym, a rare sound for that space. From the corner, Bucky's phone began to beep.

"Well, that's time," Bucky announced, standing up. "Let's go back upstairs and get jammies on."

"Awwww," the twins chorused in disappointment.

"I know, that was fun. We can do it again tomorrow," he informed them. "But now it's time for bed."

"I don't wanna go to bed," Brooklyn whined, flopping backwards onto the mat, limp as a ragdoll. Unfazed, Bucky scooped her up and threw her over his shoulder, then extended a hand to Jameson.

"Come on, let's go." Jamie obediently slipped his hand into his father's and walked placidly beside him. At Bucky's back, Brooklyn grunted, straining against his grip and throwing her thirty-five pounds around as best as she could.

"Uuuungh, put me down, Daddy!" she demanded. Bucky glanced down at Jameson.

"This sure is a noisy sack of potatoes," he observed out loud. Jameson giggled. When they arrived back at the apartment, the kitchen was sparkling clean, and Nyssa had fallen asleep on the couch in the living room.

"Shhhh," he admonished, setting Brooklyn down. "Let's be quiet as mice so we don't wake Mommy up."

"No!" Brooklyn shouted, darting towards the couch. "I want Mommy to do bedtime! MOOOOOOOMMMEEEEEEE!" Bucky caught her before she dove on top of Nyssa on the couch, but Brooklyn continued screaming. Her voice rose in both volume and pitch until it became painful, and Bucky clapped his hands over his ears defensively. Nyssa jerked awake, regarding their daughter in alarm. The windows shook and began to crack. Brooklyn brought her fists down on the coffee table in front of the couch, and it cracked, one of the legs breaking off completely. Nyssa stood and scooped Brooklyn into her arms, swaying and bouncing in a comforting maternal dance as she murmured reassurance into her daughter's ear. The screaming ceased, turning into sobs against her mother's shoulder. Nyssa rubbed her back soothingly as she carried her down the hall. She paused at the door to the twins' room and looked back at where Bucky and Jameson were still watching, stunned.

"Come get jammies on, Jamie," she called gently. Obediently, Jameson followed. Bucky let out a long breath and regarded the broken pieces of coffee table on the living room floor. When he had started his woodworking hobby, he mostly made pieces as gifts, and had started small. This table was the first big thing that he had been proud enough of to bring into his home. Darshan sniffed at the pieces curiously, then trotted down the hall and lay down in front of the twins' door. Picking up the piece, Bucky lugged them out of the apartment and down to his workshop. He placed the smaller pieces on his workbench, and set the rest on the floor. He paused and looked over the fragments. Some of them might still be able to be mended. Some would have to be replaced. Unless he just wanted to start over and make a new, better coffee table. Heaving a sigh, he threw a rag over the pieces on the workbench. It had been a long day, and he didn't have the ambition to fix this right now. Shaking his head, he went back upstairs. He helped himself to a beer from the fridge and sat down on the couch. It wasn't long before Nyssa emerged from the twins' room.

"So what the hell was that?" Bucky commented, glancing at the crack in the window. Nyssa shook her head.

"Just a lot of feelings at the culmination of a very hard and scary day," she sighed. Bucky gave her a reproving look.

"You know that's not what I meant," he said shortly. Nyssa sat down beside him slowly; her expression thoughtful.

"I believe we are seeing our daughter's gifts emerge," she replied meditatively. Bucky frowned.

"Her… gifts?" he repeated blankly. That loud, painful voice hadn't seemed like much of a gift. Nyssa nodded.

"Her powers, if you like that term better," she amended. He folded his arms over his chest.

"I thought you said those wouldn't come until puberty," he recalled. "Is she…?" He didn't finish his question, but Nyssa was already shaking her head.

"I think, because of the serum, they're developing their powers early," she informed him. He blinked at her.

"I was expecting them to have powers like yours," he said. She shook her head.

"Variations on a theme," she reminded him. "It's not always predictable. Historically, members of my family can control different types of energy."

"Is that what that screeching was?" Bucky asked, gritting his teeth at the memory.

"Sound is also a form of energy," Nyssa replied mildly. "Our daughter has a voice that cannot be ignored."

"She certainly isn't very ladylike," Bucky grumbled. He knew things were different now, but he had grown up in a time where children were to be seen and not heard, especially girls. Some days the adjustment was harder than others. Nyssa raised her eyebrows at him.

"Though she be little, she be fierce," she quoted. "Ladylike doesn't make an impact on the world. She's going to do big things someday, I predict. As long as we can avoid stifling her spirit." She shifted on the couch, drawing her legs up underneath her. "This isn't the first time Jameson has complained about eating meat. I think he's sensitive to the circumstances under which the animal was killed. He can sense the echoes of their suffering."

"Sensitive," he repeated. It was an apt word for Jameson. "What do you suggest we do?" he asked dourly. She shrugged.

I'm going to start making vegetarian dishes, I think. There are a lot of protein sources that don't have to be slaughtered to end up on the table."

"So, we're letting our toddler determine what food we serve in our home now?" he replied incredulously. Nyssa gave him a tolerant look.

"It's upsetting to him. Just think of it like a food allergy. Nobody is asking you to give it up completely. When you're out of the house, you can have steak and burgers and pork chops to your heart's content. We just won't be serving meat here." She shrugged. "I've flirted with the idea of going vegetarian for years, just never converted." Bucky glanced at her sideways with a raised eyebrow.

"You think Brooklyn will be okay with giving up her chicken nuggets?" he asked skeptically. Nyssa chuckled.

"They have alternatives," she reminded him, then sighed. "We'll get it figured out."

"Should we really cater to him like that, though?" He shook his head. "It's not like the world is going to change because he can't handle it. He's too soft. He'll need to toughen up, or the world will eat him alive." Nyssa frowned at him.

"Life can be difficult when you sense more than others do," she agreed, and he realized belatedly that the same term could be applied to her. "But that doesn't necessarily mean it's a weakness. Nor is softness. Life is hard, but the answer isn't to become hardened. A hard man is not a strong man, he is a hollow man. The hurts don't go away just because you won't acknowledge them." She cocked her head to the side. "If their personalities were reversed, would it bother you nearly as much?" Bucky contemplated the question for a moment, but didn't reply. Nyssa leaned towards him, resting her hand on his. "All we have to do is love our children just as they are, without requiring them to be something they are not," she said simply. "Giving them a strong foundation of love and acceptance will make them more resilient, which they need far more than a tough outer shell." Bucky shook his head.

"I just worry that… he's going to trust the wrong person, and it's going to go very, very badly," he said softly. Nyssa nodded agreement.

"The world will teach them that life is hard, and that people can be thoughtless, malicious and cruel," she noted. "They don't need to learn that from us. Especially not at this age. Right now, they need to know that they can trust us, so that we can teach them who else is safe to trust, and protect them from everyone else." Bucky nodded agreement.

"Speaking of which…" He shifted on the couch, turning more fully towards her, and took both of her hands in his. "I want you to start carrying." Nyssa dipped her head with a soft noise of dismay.

"I've lived in this city for almost twenty years. I've never had to carry unless I was on a mission that required it," she observed. Bucky nodded regretfully.

"I know, but things are different now. We have children to protect," he pointed out.

"I think I did a good job of doing that today," Nyssa protested. "And they arrested him, so he shouldn't be a problem for us anymore. I'm sure they'll track down the driver of the van." Bucky shook his head and leaned in closer.

"Today could have gone very, very differently, and you wouldn't even be here to have this conversation with me," he pointed out gravely. "Even if today worked out okay, it might not next time. There are…. A lot of people who have very valid reasons to wish the Winter Soldier harm. And even you have managed to make a few enemies along the way."

"I know, but… I don't want to live in constant fear," she said softly. "Jumping at shadows, expecting evil lurking around every corner…"

"I don't want you to be scared," he said reassuringly. "I just want you to be cautious." Nyssa exhaled heavily.

"I will be armed when I'm out," she promised. "If it will make you feel better."

"Thank you," Bucky breathed. He tilted his head into hers, his forehead lightly pressing against hers. "And maybe we really should start looking at moving out of the city."

"Into the middle of nowhere?" She laughed softly.

"Can you imagine it?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Acres of green space, living things, maybe a lake… and just us." He reached out, rubbing his hands across her shoulders and down her arms, pulling her into him. He pressed his mouth against hers, his left hand tracing trails down her back, and he felt her shiver in his arms. Pausing with his palm at her lower back, he drew her body flush with his as he drank of her deeply. His right hand crept up her shirt, gliding up to find the soft and sensitive skin of her breast. She moaned softly, her arms encircling his shoulders as she clung to him.

"Mmmm… paradise," she murmured in his ear, then gasped and groaned. He continued kissing and caressing her, encouraged by the sounds she was making. It had been a long time since they had been able to do this, and he wanted to savor every moment. Suddenly, she stiffened in his arms and pulled away. He frowned in frustrated confusion, but then heard crying coming from down the hall. Nyssa extracted herself from his embrace and turned expectantly. Small feet pitter-pattered towards them, and Jameson emerged with tear-streaked face, sobbing.

"Oh, honey, did you have a bad dream?" she asked sympathetically. He nodded through his tears and stretched his arms towards her. She scooped him up and carried him back down the hallway. Before she disappeared into their room, she turned and looked back at Bucky with a pained, regretful expression. "Sorry," she mouthed, then vanished through the door. Bucky heaved an exasperated sigh and sat back on the couch, adjusting his pants against his now-painful arousal.

* * *

 **Thanks to karina001, SomebodyWhoCares and DarylDixon'sLover for your reviews! I know it's shocking I have another chapter up so soon, but things are moving fast because we're getting closer to the end and I've been planning this part *forever.* Hopefully the next part will come just as quickly.**


	52. Green-Eyed Monster

**Disclaimer: Marvel Characters are property of Marvel. Original Characters are mine. Just for fun, not for profit.**

* * *

 **Green-Eyed Monster**

 _He was in a dark, shadowy corridor lined with doors. Somewhere in the building, he could hear muffled sounds of passion; a feminine voice moaning and sighing, answered in kind by a deep baritone. They sounded somewhat familiar. Frowning, Bucky opened the door nearest him, but found only an empty room. Slowly, he made his way down the hallway. The noises persisted as he drew nearer to the end of the hall. He opened the door to his right and found another empty room. The sensual moans got louder as he slowly pushed open the door to the left. He froze at the sight of Nyssa entwined in Marquis' arms, panting and gasping in ardor. Both of them paused, panting, and looked over at Bucky staring dumbfounded in the doorway. Then they began to laugh._

* * *

Bucky awakened feeling rageful. He sat up in bed and looked over at his wife, slumbering peacefully on the other side of the mattress. Jameson and Brooklyn had climbed in beside her and were snuggled in, fast asleep. After glancing at the clock, he decided he might as well get ready for the day. He was scheduled for meetings at the UN all morning and afternoon. He stepped in the shower, letting the warm water run over his body. He tried to wash away the image of Nyssa with Marquis, but it lingered in his mind, just as their laughter echoed in his ears.

It was just a dream, he reminded himself as he drove through the early morning traffic. Still, he was having trouble dismissing it. Could it be? Nyssa and Marquis had been spending most days together for the better part of a year. Maybe the distance that had grown between her and Bucky had been because someone else had captured her affections. No, no, she wouldn't do that, he argued with himself. He trusted her. But then, she trusted him, too, and he had gone and kissed Laura. Perhaps Nyssa had fallen to her own moments of weakness.

By the time he arrived at the UN, he was still feeling unsettled, having argued with himself the entire way there. The first meeting of the day was tech focused, with discussions of what types of technology would be needed for interstellar espionage and warfare. Tony made a presentation on the prototypes and projects he was developing. In the background, Scott ran the slide show and projector. Sitting next to Steve, Bucky had more than a few moments of wonderment at what was possible now. The lights came up, and Steve shook his head.

"What a time to be alive, eh, Buck?" he commented. Bucky grunted distractedly, but nodded his agreement. Natasha had a long list of requisitions for Tony to begin development on. Bucky found himself impressed, but had nothing else to add. Instead, he sat silently, mulling over the attack from the day before, imagining possible future attacks, and ruminating about his dream. Could it possibly have any basis in reality? Was his subconscious trying to tell him something? By the time they adjourned for lunch, he still found himself at loose ends. Lost in thought over his lunch, he wasn't paying attention to the discussions going on around him.

"Earth to Barnes, come in Barnes," Natasha called, touching his arm. He blinked, startled.

"Sorry, I'm… a little preoccupied," he muttered.

"And no wonder, with Nyssa being attacked yesterday," Steve mentioned, coming to his friend's defense. Natasha looked shocked.

"Attacked?" she repeated. "How did I not know about this?" Bucky gave her a sidelong glance.

"We decided against taking out an ad in the paper about it," he said dryly. She gave him a scornful look in response.

"Is she okay?" Scott asked solicitously. Bucky hesitated, then nodded.

"She's a little rattled," he admitted. "We all are. Someone with a vendetta against the Winter Soldier tried to kidnap Nyssa and the twins." There was a moment of stunned silence, then murmurs and exclamations up and down the table. For most of them, that was their worst fear – a nemesis harming their loved ones in retaliation. The remainder of the meal, they mostly left him alone, giving him space to cogitate and ponder, mentally wandering through ever more lurid and graphic scenarios. His mind hurtled from images of Nyssa and the twins lying dead in pools of blood to vivid imaginings of Nyssa and Marquis engaged in various lewd acts. He set his fork down on his nearly full plate, his appetite abandoning him completely. Scott gave him a sympathetic look.

"Hey, if it helps at all, I wouldn't want to be the guy who messes around with your wife," he mentioned. Bucky frowned at him. Had he heard something about Nyssa and Marquis? "I'm just saying," Scott continued, taking a mouthful of food from his plate. "She's way more formidable than she looks. I'm sure the kidnappers had no idea what they were getting into when they tried to nab her." He chewed, staring thoughtfully off into space, then swallowed and shook his head. "I mean, I'd still hate to be in your shoes. I can only imagine how I'd feel if someone threatened Cassie. Or Hope. Or Maggie, even. I mean, yeah, it didn't work out between us, and I was really hurt when she stepped out on me, but I still care about her. I don't wish her any harm." Bucky gave Scott a long look. Steve gave him a comforting pat on the shoulder, then stood. The others were finishing up their meals, and the table was starting to clear out. Bucky glanced around. He and Scott were the last ones left at the table. Impulsively, he leaned forwards.

"Did you suspect anything?" he asked Scott. The other man's expression became startled.

"Suspect anything?" he repeated blankly. Bucky gave him a pointed look.

"When she was… stepping out on you," he prompted. "Did you suspect it before you found out?" Scott took a deep breath, his expression pained.

"I mean, I knew things between us weren't good," he admitted. "I knew she wasn't happy with the situation, the trouble I got myself into. Maybe on some level, I had a hunch. You know, looking at it in retrospect. But it still came as a shock. That wasn't the kind of person she was, so I never dreamed…" He shook his head. "But I guess, given the right circumstances, even the best people can make the worst kinds of mistakes." He stood up. "I better get going. My next meeting's in ten minutes." Bucky watched him go, feeling not at all comforted by Scott's revelation. Getting up, he dumped his food into the garbage and put his tray away.

"Trying to figure out if Nyssa knows?" He snapped his head to the side to see Natasha leaning casually against the wall with a smirk on her face, arms folded over her chest. He swallowed and did his best to rearrange his face into a blank expression.

"If Nyssa knows what?" he queried innocently. Natasha gave him a knowing look.

"About you and Laura," she replied smugly. Bucky's heart nearly stopped.

"What? How?" he gasped. Natasha's smirk faded, and her eyes widened slightly.

"You know I never reveal my sources," she reminded him. "But you just confirmed it." She shook her head at him. "I was hoping it wasn't true. I had a better opinion of you than that, James." Bucky swallowed hard.

"So, who else knows?" he managed, his mouth suddenly dry.

"Wouldn't you like to know," she smirked, then shook her head. "I won't give you that comfort. Not this time. Let's just say… not as many as could know." He frowned.

"So, you want something from me to keep it under wraps? Is that the idea?" he croaked.

"I'm not planning to resort to blackmail," Nat assured him. "Though it wouldn't kill you to be nicer to me." She took a step closer to him. "Given Nyssa's abilities, she probably knows already. If not, she'll figure it out soon. She deserves to hear about it from you, not the rumor mill." His stomach lurched. Natasha had a point. Still, there had to be a way of keeping Nyssa from finding out. Of course, if she truly was involved with Marquis, as he suspected, she couldn't be mad at him for a simple kiss with another woman. He resolved to find out.

* * *

"Sturdy, you got a new cellie." Sturdy rolled over in his bunk and gazed dispassionately at the man walking through the door to his cage. He was of average stature, with dark hair and eyes. He did not seem intimidated by being in prison; Sturdy guessed it was not his first time down. "Try to be nicer to this one, m'kay?" The guards laughed as they locked the door behind him and walked away. Sturdy grunted.

"Stay out of my way, and I'll stay out of yours," he told the new man mildly. "Cross me, and I'll make sure you prefer solitary to here." The other man gave a short jerk of his head.

"Noted." He stuck his hand out towards Sturdy. "Name's Perko." Sturdy ignored the hand, lying back down in his bunk. Perko gestured towards him instead. "And you're Kenneth Sturdy." Sturdy frowned and half-sat up again.

"My reputation precedes me, I see," he said dryly. Perko shook his head.

"Not exactly. My employer pulled some strings to make sure I ended up in here with you," he informed him. Sturdy frowned.

"Who would that be, and why in the world would they want that?" Perko grinned, and Sturdy noted he was missing a couple teeth.

"See, you and I, we share some… common interests," Perko replied enigmatically. Sturdy frowned at him.

"And what, pray tell, would those be?" he snapped. He was tiring of this man already. Perko leaned forward conspiratorially.

"We both hate the Winter Soldier," he elaborated, "and his family. Nefaria has a plan. He's going to give us a chance at redemption and revenge, all at the same time." Sturdy sat up in his bunk, leaning forward.

"All right," he admitted. "You have my attention."

* * *

Bucky could hear the music from their apartment as soon as he stepped off the elevator. Children's renditions of popular tunes blasted through the air. He opened the door and stepped into the living room to find Nyssa and the twins dancing and singing along. Brooklyn was wiggling her hips and flailing her arms on the couch, while Nyssa and Jameson cavorted on the floor, singing along to the familiar lyrics. At the sight, Bucky felt his heart lift, and for the first time that day the pit in his stomach unknotted. With a grin, he crossed the room and took Nyssa's hand in his. She gave him a startled look, as if she hadn't realized he was there, but then a delighted smile lit up her face. Falling into step with him, she adjusted fluidly, moving in his arms as if there was nowhere else in the world she belonged. He danced her across the room, then twirled her away. Keeping their hands linked, she spun in a circle around him as the music crescendoed, then swirled back into his arms as it ended. He dipped her low, and she lifted one leg with a flourish, laughing delightedly. The twins bounced around them, dancing and chanting.

"Dance with me now, Daddy!" Brooklyn requested. As a new song started, Bucky grabbed his daughter's hands and danced a few steps across the carpet. "Spin me, spin me! Spin me like Mommy!" Chuckling, he obliged. Brooklyn didn't move as gracefully or easily as her mother did, but twirled awkwardly in a circle. After a few turns, she began staggering. "Whoooa, I'm dizzy!" Laughing, he released her hand, and she took unsteady steps before collapsing on the couch, giggling madly.

"My turn, my turn!" Jameson announced, holding his hands up to his father. Bucky paused a moment, but then seized his son's hands and danced with him as well, pirouetting him in an ungainly arc around him. Brooklyn was quick to request another spin, with Jameson hot on her heels. They took turns twirling guilelessly while their innocent giggles accompanied the music. The song ended, and Jameson threw his arms around Bucky's thighs.

"I love you, Daddy," he proclaimed. Bucky picked him up and pulled him into a bear hug.

"I love you, too, buddy," he replied. With a touched smile and a misty sheen in her eyes, Nyssa turned the music down.

"You're home earlier than I was expecting," she observed. Bucky nodded.

"The afternoon meetings weren't as long as I anticipated," he confirmed. "How was your day?" Nyssa shrugged.

"Uneventful, thankfully. Brooklyn and I had a long discussion about what to do about big feelings, and we all practiced some meditation techniques," she informed him. Bucky nodded.

"Good. That reminds me." He gestured. "Brooklyn, come with me." He held his hand out to his daughter. Obediently, she slipped her hand into his.

* * *

Brooklyn looked around with wide eyes as he led her into his workshop. He still sometimes escaped here when he needed time to himself, but he hadn't brought the children with him. There were too many sharp blades and spinning bits to be a safe space for a curious toddler. He brought Brooklyn over to where he had piled the pieces of coffee table.

"Do you know what this is?" he asked her quietly. Her shoulders sagged.

"The table I broke," she admitted.

"Did you know I built this table?" he asked her. "I worked very hard on it. I was very proud of it." She looked up at him, tears welling in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," she said sincerely. "I didn't mean to break it." Bucky nodded.

"I know you didn't," he reassured her. He looked down at the wood. "It's still broken, though." Brooklyn sniffled. Bucky crouched down in front of her and gently wiped the tear that trickled down her cheek. "Sometimes, even if it wasn't what we intended, we make mistakes. We break things. We hurt people. We all do it. Mommy makes mistakes. I've made lots of mistakes." Brooklyn regarded him with wide, watery sea-blue eyes.

"Have you broken tables?" she asked in a stage whisper. Bucky chuckled softly.

"I've done a lot worse than that," he admitted. "And even if we didn't mean to, it's important to take steps to make it right. I think you're big enough now. You're going to help me fix the table. Okay?" Brooklyn nodded, straightening up and squaring her shoulders. Bucky turned some music on, lower than he usually would if he were working alone, and commenced her first lesson in woodworking. He showed her how to read a tape measure, discussed their plans for repairing the table, unveiled the secrets of the hammer, sandpaper and screwdriver. His hands patiently guided her smaller ones, and took over when her child-size store of focus scattered and vanished. Two hours later, they stood side by side and admired their handiwork. While the repair wasn't invisible, it was presentable. Bucky contemplated painting gold along the repaired sections, a detail he knew Nyssa would appreciate. Since he didn't have any gold paint handy, that would have to wait for another day. He patted Brooklyn's shoulder, then rested his hand there.

"Good work, Babydoll," he said proudly. "Thanks for your help." She wrapped her hands around his forearm. He glanced down, noticing how it still took both of her hands to encircle his arm, and remembered how small she still was. With how verbal she was already, it was easy to forget that she was barely over two years old, though closer to five developmentally. He picked her up and playfully touched the end of her nose with his pointer finger. "Let's go see if dinner is ready." She nodded, wrapping her little arms around his neck and leaning her head against his shoulder.

* * *

Dinner was stir-fry with vegetables from their balcony garden and chunks of a substance Bucky would have sworn was chicken, though given how happily Jameson ate it, likely was not. It was surprisingly tasty. After eating half her plate, Brooklyn slipped out of her chair and disappeared down the hall into her room.

"Brooklyn, come back and finish eating!" Bucky called after her. She peeked out of the door at him.

"I'm done. My tummy's full," she informed him, then disappeared again. Jameson shoveled one more bite of food into his mouth, then followed his sister. Bucky sighed and scraped the last of the food on his plate onto his fork. Nyssa smiled at him tiredly. Standing up, she began clearing the table.

"At least she finished before she left the table this time," she observed. Bucky shook his head and stood. Wandering down the hall, he peeked into the twins' room to see both playing happily. It was a rare sight lately; between their mother being ill and having their lives turned completely upside down with the quarantine, one or both needed attention and reassurance almost constantly. But tonight, they seemed content to play together, at least for the moment. With a half-smile, Bucky turned and meandered back towards the kitchen. Nyssa was at the sink, cleaning up the pots and pans from dinner. He paused as he noticed a few sheets of paper stacked on the counter. Frowning, he picked up the one on top. _To whom it may concern; I have had the privilege of employing and working with Marquis Persad for almost two years. I have found him to be a conscientious employee, as well as a kind, patient, attentive and compassionate person…_ Bucky frowned as he scanned through the letter singing praises of the other man. The family time had lulled his suspicions into complacency temporarily, but now they came flooding back in a rush of jealousy.

"What's this?" he asked. Nyssa half-turned towards him.

"Oh, those are letters of recommendation. Marquis is applying to teaching programs. I thought perhaps I could help him out a little. My name should still carry a little weight; some of them use my textbooks in their psychology programs." She rinsed off the pot she had finished scrubbing, her fingers quickly inspecting the inside for any missed spots, then set it in the dish strainer. "If you could help me address the envelope, I'll drop it in the mail tomorrow."

"This is quite the glowing recommendation," Bucky noted. "Attentive… responsive… faithful…" He read a few of the adjectives from the letter, feeling his resentment grow. Nyssa paused in her cleaning duties, turning towards him with a puzzled look.

"Yes, I wanted to reference both professional and personal opinion," she explained. "Since he would be working with children as a teacher, character seemed relevant."

"One would almost question what kind of relationship the two of you have," Bucky noted. "Judging by this letter, it seems rather… intimate." Nyssa frowned, suddenly becoming very still.

"One would question?" she repeated blankly. "Are you accusing me of something?"

"I just want to know," he said slowly, "what exactly is the relationship between the two of you?" Nyssa stood frozen; her expression unreadable for a long moment. She began to shake her head.

"You think that I'm sleeping with him," she realized out loud. Anger began to cloud her features. "I can't believe you would accuse me of being unfaithful to you." Bucky folded his arms over his chest.

"That doesn't answer the question, though, does it?" he noted. "So, are you?" She stared at him disbelievingly, then began to laugh mirthlessly, echoing the sound from his dreams last night. His ire rose. "Is this a joke to you?"

"If it's a joke, it's a cruel one," she returned bitterly. "I tell you no, I have never cheated on you, but do you even believe me? I laugh because you could not be further from the truth." Throwing the washcloth into the sink, she stalked down the hallway. "Who wants to go to Menchie's?" she called.

"Me, me, me!" Both twins chorused. Brooklyn jumped enthusiastically into the hallway, waving her arms. Jameson was not far behind, eyes alight. Nyssa smiled at her children.

"Great. Go get your shoes on, and we'll go get a treat," she instructed them.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Bucky growled as she crossed back to put on Darshan's working harness. "We still need to discuss this." She shook her head.

"There's nothing to discuss. The kids and I are going to get some frozen yogurt," she informed him. Her tone was light, but he saw her hands shaking as she buckled the straps on the dog. "If you get tired of gnawing on your petty jealous fantasies and decide you want something tastier, you are welcome to join us a little later."

"So, you're walking out on me?" he asked roughly. She straightened, the color draining from her face.

"I am giving you some time and space to come to your senses," she said evenly. "I don't intend for this to be the end of… anything. If you decide that's what it means…." Her voice caught, and she looked away, shaking her head. Before he could reply, the twins emerged with their shoes on.

"Ice cream, ice cream!" they chanted. Nyssa smiled at them, brushing a tear from her cheek.

"Ice cream, yay, let's go!" she cheered, her tone falsely bright as she steered them towards the hallway, Darshan at heel position. Brooklyn paused at the door.

"Daddy, aren't you coming?" she asked.

"Maybe later," Bucky said carefully. "I have… some stuff to do here first." Brooklyn accepted this, and followed her mother and brother out the door. Bucky took a deep breath to steady himself. His gaze fell on the letters of recommendation on the counter, and he picked them up, an idea taking root in his mind.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, he was across town, staring at an unfamiliar door. He hesitated, for a moment considering that this might not be the best idea. His resentment dismissed the thought. He raised his hand and knocked. Marquis answered the door. Surprise registered on his handsome features, but he smiled.

"Mistah B, to what do I owe the pleasure?" he rumbled. Bucky held up an envelope with Nyssa's letters of recommendation inside.

"Nyssa said you were applying to colleges, so she has letters of recommendation for you," he explained. Marquis' eyes widened, though a shadow of confusion lingered over his eyes.

"That's very kind of her," he said. "But why did she send you to bring them?"

"Well, she's busy with the kids," Bucky explained. "But also, I had something I wanted to discuss with you. Can I come in?" Still looking perplexed, Marquis nodded, backing up and gesturing for Bucky to enter with one of his upper arms. With a forced smile, Bucky did so, feeling ever more conscious of the weight of the concealed revolver at his hip.

* * *

 **Thanks to DarylDixon'sLover, karina001, SomebodyWhoCares, Qweb and my two lovely guests for reading and reviewing!**


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